#tried to articulate my thoughts more but honestly this is all it is at the end of the day

[xunyicaos]

take my breath away 

lads sylus x afab!reader (18+)

word count: ~ 1.6k

content: pre-established relationship (admittedly obsessed with husband!sylus), not proofread, corn without plot, breathplay, pet names (kitten, sweetie, cutie), needy!reader, overstimulation, unprotected sex, p in v, reposted my old work from diff fandom

when you gasp it's like something snaps. 

your whole body quakes as euphoria floods through you, high-pitched cries tumbling from your lips and your nails leaving pretty red patterns all over your husband’s back. sylus is a pro at many things, but he's especially talented at hitting that delicate spot inside you for the third time tonight, flipping the switch in your brain that turns off all the thoughts focused on anything but him. 

you don’t remember how this started, whether you had a bad day or he did, or what precisely it was that has you a fucked out doll at his disposal. shit, you’re not even sure how your day went at all right now, but you aren’t complaining. 

on the contrary, you’re begging. your hole is sensitive, that's an understatement, but it’s still drinking in his fingers desperately. it's so good, so addictive when sylus fills you up, whether it’s his long fingers or his cock, your pussy craves more each second. 

but now sylus isn’t moving and your recovering walls feel neglected without his fingers massaging into them. “no, no,” you whimper, lightly smacking at his arm. “need more… wanna cum again.”

your hiccups seem to grab sylus's attention again, his crimson gaze heavy yet curious. somehow, even in your pleasured haze, you recognize the expression. he wants something from you and, of course, you automatically want to give it to him as soon as he tells you what it is. He pulls his fingers from you with a sloppy wet sound that has your eyes rolling, your hole clenching as though begging to be stretched again, needing to be filled. 

“sweetie,” sylus slurs, his voice intoxicatingly deep with a tempting lull to his words. “will you make that sound…” his voice catches, tense with his own growing arousal that's evident in the way his brows furrow as he tries to find his words. “make that pretty noise again for me.”

your brows furrow for a moment and you think you notice him using his wet hand to push his boxers down, the other traveling up to the base of your neck. he presses gently, tentatively, a tender massage that eases your breath, makes you comfortable enough to find your voice and ask, “what n—?”

the question catches in your throat, breath hitching beneath his palm as he squeezes. your eyes widen, an internal scream of I can’t breathe! causing your heart to skip a beat. but sylus’s grip loosens just before the panic fully manifests and oxygen floods into your lungs, the relief racing both up to fill your head and down to pool between your thighs. 

“that.”

oh. your thinking is still cloudy, sentences not linking together properly, words not articulating, but you think you know what he’s talking about. how fitting.

sylus fucking likes the sound of you choking, the melody of you gasping and whimpering, even more vulnerable at his hands than you already are. and, honestly, it works out, because you love the way it feels when he chokes you. you know he's at war with himself internally, weighing out his own pleasure and your comfort. always so thoughtful. you respond with your own hand resting gently on top of his, squeezing it as if to urge him to continue. 

sylus seems a bit relieved and he leans down to press a hungry kiss to your lips, catching your lower lip between his teeth before swiping his tongue over it and pulling back just enough to whisper, “so you like that, kitten?” he sounds a bit hopeful and if you could think properly, you’d say it was cute. 

“yes,” it’s a blend of a hiccup, a sob, and likely a deranged giggle. your hand flutters on top of his, pressing it down into your neck. 

that’s all he needs to hear. 

it’s as simple as a flex of his perfect fingers that gets you to keen, your movements in tandem with his as you hook your legs around his waist. your expression, the beautiful sounds leaving you, and the steady stream of bliss dripping from your hole—it has him hard and throbbing as he positions himself between your legs. 

you’d whine if you could, but your voice is hidden behind sylus's giant hand, your breath shallow. you see stars when he slides into you, the stretch making your mouth fall open in a stifled scream, drool trickling from the corner of your lips. you’re unable to take the breath you usually would, to steady yourself, to keep yourself from unraveling then and there. no, now you’re only able to clench, to grip him with your needy walls. your mind is melting and his oh-so-intoxicating voice only adds fuel to the fire. 

“you’re so beautiful, sweetie. always, but especially when you’re like this,” sylus groans, his hips rocking into a pace that has you silently sobbing, the pleasure overwhelming. it’s like both of you have forgotten the level of your sensitivity, your orgasms in the past hour brushed aside. the focus is on how badly you want more, more, more right now. 

sylus is creating a pattern, lightening his grip on your neck only to slam into you right as you’re trying to recover with a breath. “you like it when you’re fucked stupid, huh?” he pants between thrusts. “my kitten just wants to be full of my cock?” 

your acquiescence is broken up into too many syllables, otherwise reduced to gasps and fluttering lashes. your nails dig pretty red crescents into his arms, tears spilling from your eyes as your lungs are tempted again and again, the rush of air being abruptly stopped and sylus pounding into your pussy enough to drive you crazy, if you aren’t already. 

sylus is equally drunk on your pussy; the way it pulls him into your heat, how your walls massage his cock each time he slams into you. it always feels like he’s reminding you that your pussy is all his, just for him. it's always been his goal; by the end of these late nights all you can remember is him, his cock and how nothing will ever fill you as perfectly. 

“aw, my needy little kitten, can’t think of anything but how good you feel right now, hm?” you think you nod, your teary chin hitting the back of his hand as his grasp tightens again. “there you go, sweetie,” he groans, his half-lidded gaze drinking up your tears and gasps. “feel so good you can't stop crying, hm? oh you’re so beautiful. so beautiful and all fucking mine.”

maybe it’s something about the way your eyes roll back, your lips parted in a suspended gasp, the rosy flush that’s filled your cheeks—whatever it is causes sylus’s hips to stutter, pushing into you at a depth that, if you weren’t already suffocating, would take your breath away. 

he lets go, his hand moving to brace himself through his own climax as it mixes with yours and you break down into delighted gasping sobs. “sy,” your voice is hoarse, broken, but the way your fingers trail up and down his forearm proves that it’s all in bliss. “holy shit, you're so—so good, it’s so… it feels so good.”

sylus chuckles breathlessly, the rough pads of his fingers going to draw soothing circles on the reddening skin of your neck. “you’re too perfect for me.” he hums and trails kisses from your neck to your jaw, finally ending at your lips.

his kisses are soft, far more tender than the roughness of his fingers around your throat, each one planting seeds of reality in your thoughts, slowly bringing your vocabulary back together in a way that makes sense, but not enough to draw you out from the pleasure that still has you shivering. “you did so well, sweetie,” he soothes into your lips, taking your weary giggles into his adoring kiss. “you’re absolutely amazing.” 

there’s a beat of hesitancy and Sylus takes the time to slowly pull out of you, trying to keep his eyes away from the way your hole tenses, a milky stream being pushed out and drawn back in with every pulse. He settles next to you and pulls you into his arms, stroking your hair and steadying his breathing to help inspire yours to calm. 

“sweetie?” he starts and you can barely place the discomfort in his tone. “that wasn't…” his brows furrow as the words escape him and he almost looks sheepish when he meets your gaze. so out of character, yet so endearing. “i didn’t hurt you… right?”

the laugh that leaves you is a bit more stable, genuine in its amusement. words are still proving to be difficult, due to both the mental toll and the physical pull on your throat, but you think you can get the point across when you kiss him. “no... didn’t hurt. i liked it—really liked it.” 

relief fills sylus’s sigh and he kisses your forehead, a small smile on his face when he pulls away to look at you. his eyes scan your equally red neck and you absently doodle invisible patterns on his bare chest, peeking up at him through your lashes. 

“what is it, cutie?” sylus asks in that irresistible timbre as he studies your needy expression. He knows what you want, but he’s fully prepared to keep you in his arms for just a bit longer and, thankfully, you’re in agreement. 

“need… a lil’ break…” you admit, nuzzling into his chest with a soft sigh. “but…” you peek up at him again with an adorable amount of playful shyness that makes his heart skip a beat.

“i can go again.”

[northern-passage]

the extreme in italics too? i'm imagining them like that gif of that person walking on the street recoiling in horror at zoomed in shots of lesbian behavior except in this case it's like...two references to hormone potions

transphobes will get mad any time they're put in a situation where they are forced to acknowledge the fact that trans people exist

[honeyhotteoks]

i NEED your thoughts on priest!yunho like.... please, all my mind does is wonder about yunho using his power to bring a girl under his powerful spell... I NEED HIM BIBLICALLY

idk if you remember me but ✨anon is back !!!

oh my gosh hi ✨ anon!! i def remember you, i hope you've been well!

okay so priest!yunho is actually so dear to me i cannot even articulate it i have like sixteen different ideas and i honestly think at some point it will develop into a full fic however.............. further thoughts under the cut

priest!yunho x married!reader drabble; 1.7K words warnings: lots of angst, pining, and blasphemy, questionable use of a confessional, oral (f receiving)

note: okay so here's the thing about priest!yunho, and yunho in general, while i think he deeply has the capacity for very real dom/sub dynamics etc., when it comes to the idea of him being catholic or him being a priest in the fic, i think of him less bringing a girl under his spell and more being brought under a spell and tempted away by reader. certainly that's not an original idea, that's very fleabag-esque and i've mentioned that headcanon before, but i do think that would be very true to him. so given that...................

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──────────────── ♡ ─────────────── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Yunho is new to the parish, and he's still somewhat new to this. A young priest in his early thirties moving to a new place to fill the role of someone who was once a big fixture in the community there. He's admittedly a bit nervous, and he's trying his hardest to get this right. He's had a long and complicated past coming to the vocation, and he feels like he's finally found his path, so he wants to do things the right way.

But despite all of that...... there's you. And you're married of course, you come to church with your husband, but you smile up at him during services and ask after him in quiet moments whenever you volunteer, and there's just something about the way you move in the world that makes him want to follow. But he doesn't, because you're married and for all intents and purposes so is he.

That is until things start to change. You start to miss Sunday services more often and when you are there you seem withdrawn. Your husband no longer sits snugly beside you with an arm around you shoulders, instead you sit side by side with six inches between you. Space that seems to be growing week after week, and Yunho can't help but notice. He can't help but wonder what it is that's troubling you so and driving a wedge deeply into your marriage, and it's not his place and he shouldn't ask..... but he does.

As you leave service one day, he slips a note into your palm, pressing your hand tightly closed so no one can see it and with a pleading expression he bids you not to open it until you're alone. He doesn't know what's happening at home, he can't be sure, but he's worried and if you're unsafe the last thing he's going to do is be the cause of more pain in your life.

It's simple though - a phone number scrawled out hastily next to a note. If you ever need a friend, you have one in me.

It takes you weeks to call, but it feels finally like someone's thrown you a lifeline and you grab onto it with both hands.

It starts simply enough, truly innocent when he offers you coffee and a safe place to sit by his side in the chapel. He's an ear at first, just listening and nothing more. You confess to him how hard things have been at home, how your relationship has grown strained, more like two passive strangers than a committed husband and wife. You admit you've thought about divorce, and you know deep down your husband has been cheating on you. You've seen enough little signs and found enough evidence, and it used to hurt but now it just feels empty, and you've never said that out loud to another person except to him.

He listens and he holds your hand, and he gives you a safe place every few days to just be. And all the while he tries desperately to convince himself that the growing love he feels for you isn't romantic love at all, it isn't deep and intrinsic and as essential to him as breathing.... it's friendship. And all the while you tell yourself that the feelings you have for this man aren't real, they're a product of kind attention, validation and support you're not getting at home.

Things change when the visits turn from morning coffees to a shared glass of something stronger in the evenings. Things change when he casually admits that of course he feels attraction for people, priests aren't blind, but they've committed themselves to a different kind of life. Things change when he holds you close one night, your chest wracked with tears after a particularly nasty fight with your husband, seeking Yunho's warmth and his calm.

When you finally decide to do the unthinkable, really and truly divorce your husband, the day happens around you like a whirlwind. You serve him the papers, and he replies with the most hurtful thing he ever could - an accusation that you and the parish priest have become a little too friendly. People have seen you around town, around the church, early mornings and late nights, and all the little whispers of gossip have made it so that despite having done nothing but yearn for each other, everyone has all but confirmed an affair.

The words exchanged are cruel, and you find yourself stumbling into the confessional with more anger than you've ever felt in your life. and Yunho doesn't understand why you even want to use the booth at first, you've never expressed any real interest in the more traditional aspects of the church, but you're here and your begging him and all he can do is agree.

"Bless me father, for I have sinned," You manage through hazy tears, "I can't tell you how long it's been since my last confession, I don't know, I don't remember,"

"y/n," Yunho's voice is so soft, so tender, approaching you like someone might approach a wounded animal, "you don't have to do this,"

"Stop it, stop it!" Your fists tighten, nails pressing into your palms, "Don't be nice to me right now, I can't... I don't deserve that,"

"You always deserve kindness," He says through the slats and you hear him shift in his seat.

"Not today," You scrub a hand over your face, clearing away tracks of wet tears.

"Please," He shifts again, and you can picture him clearly, leaning towards you with that gentle expression you love so much, "talk to me, I'm here,"

"I've sinned," You clench your hands tighter, sticking to the script that was drilled into you in childhood.

"y/n," He murmurs.

"Father," You cut his words off, "you're not my friend, you're my priest. Are you going to take my confession or not?"

He's silent, so silent you fear for a moment that he's gone, and then you hear a heavy sigh, "I'm listening."

Your hands relax a little, your eyes going unfocused as you try to find the words. You came here in a blaze of anger but here, next to him, in front of him, hearing his breath through the wall, you don't know how to articulate all the feelings roiling deep in your chest.

Your soon to be ex-husband's words loop in your ears - You're a disgrace. You could have fucked anyone like a normal person, but him?

Words tumble from your lips, "I'm a liar,"

Yunho stays quiet.

"I've been lying to... everyone. To him, to my friends, myself, I've been lying to you," Your breath feels thready.

"About what?" He prompts you, "I'm listening,"

You push past it, heat filling your cheeks again, anger curling in your gut, "I've coveted,"

He hums softly, acknowledging your words.

"I left him," You take a sharp inhale, a tight sob caught in your throat.

"What?" You hear him shift again on the other side of the thin wood wall.

"I got an apartment, I found a lawyer, I figured it all out and I... I gave him the papers," You can feel the way your husband pushed you back into your chair, his tone harsh and cutting, the way he told you he'd take you for everything you were worth not the other way around.

Yunho's silent still.

"I tried to leave," You sob, "I tried to be the adult and end it easily, I tried to do the right thing, he's the one who's been cheating, he's been lying. He's been... he's not a good husband, and I... I just..."

"Shh, shh," He shushes softly through the wall, and you can practically feel the tension from him even with the wall between you as he tries to parse through your words, "breathe,"

"He knows about us," The words keep coming now, and you hear his little intake of breath but there's nothing more as you let it all come, "he knows I come here, everyone knows. Everyone. He said it's obvious, that I'm the one who's been cheating, that I... I broke our vows in the w-worst way, that it's an open secret. Everyone thinks I got b-bored, that I seduced you,"

Your heart is pounding in your ears, "And it's a rumor, it's just a rumor, but the thing is,"

You hear him shift again in the confessional next to you, the only sign he's still here.

"I do want you," You drop your head into your hands, "I've lied to you since the start, I wanted a friend, but I've wanted you too,"

"y/n," He's so quiet you almost miss it.

"And if everyone thinks what they think," You're dizzy, blood rushing in your ears, "then it's true, only I never, we never... I've ruined your life and mine and I've never even gotten to really touch you, and it's wrong, I know it's wrong, but you're all I think about. It's killing me, this is killing me, and I can't,"

The door to the confessional is suddenly open, your words dying on your lips as the equilibrium of the little room changes. He's on you in a second, dropping to his knees before you, gathering you close in his arms and his lips on yours like he's done it a thousand times before. He presses up into your space, your legs parting open as wide as the narrow walls allow to slot his body perfectly between your thighs.

You suck in a harsh breath against his lips, tears still caught in your throat, and Yunho shakes his head, his forehead leaning against yours as he breaks the kiss, "Shh," he eases you, "I've got you,"

A sick, hot thrill rolls through you, "Yunho," his name a whine on your lips.

"I'm here," He whispers it like a promise, like he's yours, not God's.

His hands push at your skirt, rucking it up higher on your hips and maneuvering your body until you're slipping forward on the confessional seat with your hips tilted up.

"My sweet girl," He groans against your lips, fingers tugging your panties roughly to the side so he can slip the pad of his thumb over your swollen clit.

It's unholy, it's debauched, it's everything you dreamt up in your deepest fantasies when you touched yourself in bed, but if your life in this little town is really over you need it to have at least been real. You need him to have been real, even once. Just once.

"God," He chokes against your mouth as his fingers sink inside you, finding your slit slick and body trembling, "oh, God,"

It sounds so different on his lips, and you stifle a moan into his neck when he hits a particularly sensitive place inside you.

"Shh," He hushes you again, pressing one more kiss to your lips before he drops lower between your thighs and hitches your legs up and over his shoulders.

His tongue finds your core and you see colors. He kisses your cunt with a desperate, hungry need and you know with perfect clarity that it wasn't all in your mind. He's wanted too, he's needed you too.

His hands are hot on your hips, your fingers knotted in his hair, and you let him consume you, completely and wholly.

You come hard on his tongue, biting down on your lip enough to draw blood to stay quiet, and you think that nothing in the world would ever feel this good if it wasn't sacred.

It couldn't.

[ldrfanatic]

r9 for mattheo riddle pls🙏

shakin', pacin', I just need you

mattheo riddle x fem!hufflepuff!reader

r9 - "for you I would fall from grace, just to touch your face"

gonna be at the dentist office w my bf for the next three to four hours so I'm gonna try and clear out my requests <3

lowkey I was praying someone would request this for mattheo

part two anyone?

y'all I could not find where I wrote down my mattheo taglist so if you wanna be added please please PLEASE comment on this post so I can start a new one thanksss

slytherin boys works

"y/n are you even listening to me?"

the voice of hannah abbot, a fellow hufflepuff, tore your eyes from your only slytherin friend albeit reluctantly. when you finally looked towards your friend, her mouth was turned up into a disapproving frown.

"no. I know you think he's your friend, but he's not."

she wasn't entirely wrong. afterall, you couldn't honestly say that you'd exchanged more than a few words with the boy, though it wasn't for lack of opportunity. he'd approached you on more than one occasion but neither of you ever seemed to actually speak.

really, it was because mattheo felt stumped by you. he'd spent a lot of time with different girls while he'd been at hogwarts. but when he tried to approach you, he fumbled. every. single. time. that was how he first knew you were special.

the kind of girl that made him want to face his father's wrath even though he knew that liking you would be more than enough for a crucio.

between your friends, his family, and his inability to articulate his thoughts around you, mattheo never really got the chance to talk to you.

that is, until now.

somehow, by the grace of the universe, snape had paired you with him for the d.a.d.a. project studying boggarts. you touched on them briefly in your third year but due to lupin's condition, didn't get the chance to finish them. for once, mattheo actually wanted to do schoolwork and do well on this project so you didn't resent him for a bad grade.

as class was dismissed, a hand softly grabbed your wrist.

"wait."

it was mattheo. he was actually speaking words to you rather than just sitting there and staring. it was almost unsettling if anything.

"d'you maybe wanna meet in the library after classes and..."

you smiled sweetly and nodded.

"are you sure you can handle it riddle? don't you have to be talking to someone to study with them?"

there was a teasing tone in your voice which caused mattheo's face to bloom and pink to tinge over the tips of his ears. suddenly, like a switch had flipped, a cocky smile took over his face.

"i can't help it if you take my breath away. maybe you just bring out the best in me like that."

caught off by his banter and yet undeterred, you continued.

"well we all know that you're at your best when you shut up."

you spoke the words with a teasing smile. his jaw fell promptly open at your words, completely surprised that a hufflepuff would say something like that. while mattheo attempted to collect himself, you shoved your dark arts textbook into your satchel and swung it up onto your shoulder.

"the library. tonight. 5pm sharp. don't be late riddle."

five o'clock could not come fast enough. potions with professor scalby was simply exhausting. she was a kind enough women which was a nice change from professor snape after she'd taken over the class following his promotion to d.a.d.a., but the woman had a love for potions that you could safely say no one else in the class really shared. unless you counted hermione granger, a sweet enough gryffindor also in your year.

by the time that scalby finished gushing about the amortentia your class would attempt to brew next week, you were sure you'd aged an entire year in this class alone.

finally, after what seemed like an eternity, class was dismissed. you quickly packed your books away and scurried off to the library, arriving a decent few minutes before mattheo sauntered in with an otherworldly confused look on his face.

"sorry i'm a little late. i got lost."

he spoke to you in a deep yet gentle rumble that had your heart beating a little faster in your chest. it was hard not to notice the way that he gawked at the old century library which was probably your favorite collection of books in the whole world.

"have you never been here before?"

mattheo's dark curls bounced atop his head as he shook it slowly. he looked down at his large hands with what appeared to be shame.

"i've never really taken an interest in school before."

wanting to make him feel better you gently bumped your shoulder into his as the two of you walked back towards the study tables.

"you're taking an interest now."

"in you."

his words made the both of you settle into a thick silence. though it was hard not to notice his lingered stares across the great hall or after a slytherin-hufflepuff match, it was the first time that he'd spoken words aloud that alluded to his feelings for you, and it seemed to catch the both of you off guard.

after a moment's pause, mattheo spoke again.

"i-uh, i don't know why i said that i'm sorry."

you reached your hand out from across the table where the two of you had settled down and grasped his hand in yours. you flashed him a reassuring smile.

"don't be."

abruptly, mattheo let out a strangled noise of frustration and tugged at his hair with his fingers.

"i can't do this anymore."

your heart thumped so quickly against your ribcage, you feared it might stop beating altogether.

"can't do what anymore?"

"this, y/n. i can't keep posing that i want to be your friend and do friendly things together like study at the library."

now your heart was breaking. hannah was right. mattheo riddle was not your friend and-- oh. mattheo riddle was not done speaking.

"i can't keep pretending when i want to be so much more than friends with you. when i want to do very not friendly things with you. to you. when i feel like throwing these books on the floor and yanking you across this table and pressing every part of your body against every part of mine."

instead of doing that, he stood from his seat and knelt in front of you. it felt weird to have the son of the dark lord on his knees in front of you all but begging you to be his girlfriend.

"i know i'm not the chosen one or anything and i'm never gonna be the good guy. but damnit if i have to stay away from you any longer i don't think i could stand it."

his confession stunned you into silence. how the hell could yoou possibly respond to that?

"say something, please."

a hopeful look had taken over his features. his brown eyes sparkled under the dim library lights.

"i don't care that you're not the protagonist mattheo. i would fall from grace for you."

---

<taglist>

@blobsblobician @helendeath

07.07.2024

[nqmonarch]

happy valentine's day!! <3 honestly anything for aventurine is fine, probably like what are your thoughts about him?

Happy very belated Valentine's day! I hope yours was wonderful anon!

Anyway I think my thoughts about Aventurine are uh... definitely out there. Normally when I write stuff I like to read the character's little lore things and read over character's quotes to make sure I'm depicting them well but Aventurine doesn't have much of that and my overall thoughts on him are straight up just my thoughts which are...

Aw he's baby :). I can't take him seriously x.x like I feel like under that haha let's gamble it all away front he is both terrifying but also so weak and vulnerable. Like I want to hold him in my arms and tell him he has meaning but at the same time I think he may be some kind of masochist (hot), I don't know he just gives off those vibes he's like "use me, as long as it's fun." Like okay man.

Aventurine is both the most and least predictable person you've ever met. His existence itself is like a gamble you can never tell what will come next, will it be the cocky and confident Aventurine edging you on to take his carefully laid out bait? Or would it be the pathetic Aventurine hiding beneath the surface of all his actions who's begging to be comforted?

He acts so nonchalant for someone that cares so much. It was the only reason you still tolerated him. You also cared about Aventurine but he didn't need to know that. He also didn't need to know about the lengths you went to in order to keep him out of trouble.

The two of you getting together was a miracle in itself. Because Aventurine would've never asked you out seriously. He would've teased you about it, and about your lack of a partner. Maybe he would've made a bet or two to make you hang out with him on a date. But he was too scared of commitment to give it a label.

Of course he would be scared of commitment when everything he's ever had, he's lost and everything he's gained isn't his own. How else would he be able to gamble everything he knows to be true so easily? It pissed you off to an extent, and made you hesitant to commit. What if that fucker used you in a bet? He probably wouldn't but everything with Aventurine was a gamble.

So one day after the idiot had almost gotten himself in trouble, only to be saved by his luck, you had angrily grabbed him by his neck and pressed him against the wall.

You were fine with him betting nearly everything from millions of credits to rare items. He wasn't allowed to bet his life though. Not when you were around. Because his life was yours. You wouldn't let Aventurine die.

Through an unorganized and incoherent train of thoughts you tried to express yourself to Aventurine and at first he teased you,

"You really care about me that much? You're a better friend than I thought you would be, how useful!"

But as those thoughts straightened out more into a heartfelt confession he began to quiet and freeze. Maybe if this was a game to him he'd be able to maintain his light hearted facade but you hoped you meant more. You'd known him for a while after all, and better than anyone else.

Aventurine, struggling to articulate his thoughts, only nodded at the end. Then you kissed him. His lips were hesitant against yours but his hands gripped onto your arms tightly, refusing to let go. He didn't want to seem desperate, he didn't want to seem like he cared, but the silent plea of his arms wrapping around you spoke words.

For the most part he acted as a complement to your personality. When you didn't go after him, he went after you always in an attempt to sweep you off your feet unexpectedly. When you went after him, he'd lay still and let himself be attacked unable to defend himself as a blush rose up his neck to his ears and cheeks.

A serious relationship was something new for the both of you. And given how Aventurine acted, and how you struggled to explain your emotions, the two of you ran into communication issues often.

But despite it all the two of you made it through. After all how can one better express love than saving the other's life?

Aventurine had foolishly bet his life again, this time for some inconsequential thing. The two of you had been talking to a new "friend" of his, that ended up having ties with your past. As such they'd managed to come across some minor family heirloom of yours and for some reason trying to barter with it for information.

You could've cared less but Aventurine for some reason took the bait. Inviting this "friend" to a gamble, in which if he won then he would receive Aventurine's life and assets something you thought to be overly dramatic. If Aventurine won he'd receive the heirloom and the information you'd actually come here for, the information that would allow you to blackmail the government of this planet into giving into the IPC.

Aventurine managed to lose, but it's not like it mattered. Since your bullet was through his "friend's" head in the next second. As he died you registered a small clicking sound and shielded yourself and Aventurine as the body exploded. Really? What a pain.

"The IPC will work even harder to get you killed if they know about this," You couldn't help but mutter, a frown on your face, "Is there anyone left we can contact for this?" Aventurine still had more contacts than you unsurprisingly.

Failure was always met with death for people like him.

"You want to talk to more people than me?" He spoke with mock offense and before you could retort he held out some papers, "He was useful until the very end." He joked and you frowned.

Your voice was beginning to raise in anger, "Did you have to go ahead and bet your life?"

He took a step closer, the documents disappearing, "You made the opening for me. Come on, don't be mad," His voice was coy as he grabbed your hand in his.

You didn't like it when he bet his life. If he was going to take such poor care of himself then his life would be safer in your hands. Aventurine had already begun to lead the way to your next destination and your eyes rested on him, analyzing every detail. They continued without pause until they found his neck, you wanted to cover that barcode on his neck up with bites.

When you got back to the hotel room you were staying at you found the heirloom resting on the bed, and you let out an aggravated sigh. "That bastard... I told him I didn't care about it." And you didn't but you opened up the music box nonetheless and a tune began to play out.

A few moments after it began you felt arms wrap around you and hot breath on your neck. You closed your eyes and leaned into Aventurine, "Your life will always be the most important thing to me," You spoke softly.

He stiffened and then relaxed, "That's a terrible decision."

He was annoying. Hard to communicate with. He was also always a gamble, you could never predict him. But he kept life interesting, he was interesting, and amusing. You didn't want such an adorable person to die.

Maybe one day the two of you would be able to have a completely serious conversation but that'd be a while, and for now you were content with the man that loves you who you love back.

Aventurine trying to avoid affection like an insect avoiding rain drops but you're a motherfucking tsunami.

I CANT BELIEVE I FINISHED THIS IT WAS SITTING IN MY DRAFTS FOR SO LONG

I started it like a week after I got it and then had writers block on what to do but anyway yeah this is my take on ya boy Aventurine. He's kinda pathetic but I'm into that.

[kaurwreck]

I saw your recent headcanon bsd post and honestly you really get the characters (or you get me <3 because i fully agree with them) especially the Atsushi and Dazai one which is practically canon for me. Do you have more Atsushi and Dazai headcanon you can share? I really love it when people talk about those two

I'm so glad the Atsushi and Dazai headcanon resonated with you! I call them headcanons, but they're canon to me; it's my sandbox and I'm building sandcastles.

I don't think I'm articulate enough to adequately express my thoughts about Atsushi and Dazai's relationship, so rather than try, I'm going to share more bulleted snippets of headcanons that hopefully relay the vibes if not the substance.

Atsushi is emotionally brilliant, but has the intellect of an idiot kitten. Dazai is intellectually brilliant, but has the emotional intelligence of an idiot kitten. Nevertheless, Atsushi is NOT self-aware, in the slightest, while Dazai is excruciatingly self-aware. They would devour each other in the wild but are a bonded pair in captivity.

At least once a week, Dazai loses Atsushi at the store and then doesn't listen to the intercom when he's called.

Dazai thrusts himself into the thick of villains and conflicts because the narrative will not let him die, but he can't move it forward from there. Atsushi can and is compelled to, even, because it's the only way he'll survive.

In 55 Minutes, Atsushi indicates that maybe all skills come from elsewhere and are imposed upon us. In that way, he's drawing a parallel between skills and the cultural, societal, temporal, familial influences that construct our understanding of our existence. He's also saying that perhaps what Dazai and Kyouka have going on with their otherness and inability to control their skills is kind of what happens to all of us, just in different ways. This is why he is the protagonist. He does not see separation. He sees people and he sees the constructs and frameworks that people build around themselves, but which they can also deconstruct and rebuild. Dazai isn't convinced he's a person, but Atsushi guilelessly and unwaveringly looks at him and sees a person anyway. He has that effect on others; he did the same thing to Kyouka, and Lucy, and Akutagawa, and even Ango when Ango aimed a gun at Kyouka and Lucy. Worse yet, they see reflections of their personhood in his eyes. It's intoxicating, and enlivening, and frustrating, and terrifyingly vulnerable. Dazai experiences it as absolution. Atsushi experiences it as obvious.

Dazai tries to give Atsushi shaken baby syndrome when Atsushi annoys him, even though Yosano keeps telling him that Atsushi's too old.

Chuuya and Atsushi unabashedly want to love and be loved, it's second nature to them, albeit in different ways. But Akutagawa and Dazai convinced themselves they were perfectly fine not loving and never being loved; up until they met someone who everyone loves, which is so, horribly vexing to them because they're so different and unique and no one understands them and yet here they are, vying for the attention of someone who seems to know something they don't. So, they cope by loving those they love in ways no one else does. Which is to say: like freaks.

Dazai gets involved with Atsushi and Akutagawa not just because they need mentorship or for Atsushi. He's there in solidarity with Akutagawa. Dazai is there because he needs someone who understands the reality of the idiot situation that they got themselves into because they're idiots. Dazai and Akutagawa were both supposed to die young and in abject misery. And yet here they are. Being yanked around by objectively unreasonable people who seem to think they know better. Worse, Dazai knows that he and Akutagawa want to believe them.

Atsushi and Dazai are cat-coded, when the others run it activates their predator instincts.

dazai is so afraid of feeling; he doesn't think you can survive emotion, he thinks emotions exist to trick you or destroy you and that others' expressions of emotions are disingenuous or naive; emotions burn him terribly and he can't imagine it's any different for everyone else. and if it is, then that just further evidences that he's not human after all, that he wasn't built to survive in a world that hurts him so terribly. it's why he's so certain kunikida is going to get swallowed by his ideals. it's why he raised akutagawa in pain and neglect and why he was so disgusted by akutagawa's lack of emotional control. it's why he can't hold onto chuuya for longer than it takes chuuya to fall asleep after corruption. it's why he slapped atsushi and demanded disassociation from him when atsushi started to panic about what he'd done to naomi and haruno. but fyodor is what it looks like when you succumb to that, and chuuya and atsushi and oda are what it looks like when you don't, and as much as dazai thinks he's capable of loving anyone, he loves atsushi and chuuya and oda, all of whom grappled with their own humanity and then elected to be human anyway. and as much as he thinks the others are deluding themselves, and as much as he still believes he's right about humanity's insincerity and insipidity, and since oda asked him just before dying over his own fruitless emotions anyway (although it began before oda asked), dazai has decided he would rather fiercely protect the outcasts who refuse to see their own futility than exert any energy proving himself correct. and if he can bully a reflection of himself in the process thereof, then all the better.

Dazai lies and claims Atsushi is his son for Father's Day discounts. It's so obviously untrue and outlandish that store clerks are too distressed by his thick face to call him out and so he gets away with it. Atsushi plays along because he wants the discounts too.

[vernons-girl]

Hi hii, i'm here to request another comfort Jun fic. He deserves more fics written about him he's such a healing soul :(( maybe something about Jun being down or insecure and reader just comforting him? Honestly you can choose plot just put some heavy angst and hurt/comfort into it please. You're amazing, keep writing <33

( also i might be a regular anon so is it okay if i be your 🥯 anon )

a glimmer of hope | wen junhui

angst,hurt to comfort,w.c:0.4k a/n: thank you for your request, this is really short i'm sorry :( but i hope you'll like it!! and ofc you can be my🥯 anon! this is so cute kfjvdkjvj (you're my first anon omg)

Jun sat on the edge of your shared bed, his head bowed and his hands clasped tightly together. The weight of insecurity bore down on his shoulders like a heavy burden, pressing him deeper into the abyss of self-doubt. His thoughts were a whirlwind of negativity, each one a sharp blade tearing away at his fragile confidence.

He had always struggled with feeling inadequate, never quite measuring up to the expectations he imagined others had of him. No matter how hard he tried, it seemed like he was always falling short, always disappointing those around him. His mind echoed with voices of criticism, both real and imagined, each one chipping away at his sense of self-worth.

In the dimly lit room, he felt utterly alone, suffocated by the darkness that seemed to seep into every corner of his being. He longed for someone to understand, someone to reach out and pull him from the depths of his despair.

And then you appeared, he suddenly saw light in the darkness, was it the light from the living room or your presence ? It didn't matter to him, because you were here.

Sensing something was off, you approached him cautiously, your steps soft against the floorboards as you made your way to his side. Gently, you reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder, offering him a silent gesture of support.

Jun flinched at your touch, his muscles tensing beneath your gentle grip. He felt unworthy of your kindness, undeserving of your compassion. But still, he couldn't bring himself to push youaway.

"What's wrong, Jun?" you asked softly.

He hesitated, the words catching in his throat like shards of glass. How could he possibly articulate the storm raging inside him, the crippling fear that threatened to consume him whole?

"I... I just feel like I'm not good enough," he finally admitted, his voice barely a whisper.

Your heart ached at the raw vulnerability in his words, the pain etched into every syllable. You knelt beside him, your eyes meeting his with a depth of understanding that spoke volumes.

"You are more than enough, Jun," you said firmly, voice tinged with conviction. "You are strong, and capable, and worthy of love and acceptance. Don't let anyone, not even yourself, convince you otherwise." you declared.

Tears welled up in Jun's eyes, his defenses crumbling in the face of your unwavering support. He leaned into your touch, seeking solace in the warmth of your embrace.

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, he allowed himself to believe your words, to believe that maybe, just maybe, he was deserving of happiness after all.

And in that fleeting moment of vulnerability, surrounded by the darkness and the pain, he found a glimmer of hope—a fragment of strength to carry him through the darkest of nights : you.

[angeart]

hhau vex arc part I bonus: mating marks, vexes, and not being enough

a small ramble [860 words] about that one time kane talked to grian about mating marks. this is early on, once grian is growing more comfortable in the vex commune, enough to tentatively spend time with others, but far from him feeling understood or accepted. back when kane still doesn’t understand a thing about avians. (he’s trying. in his own ways.) 

the topic of mating marks comes up because, well, grian has one! he has a bite from scar, and now thanks to nico and kane (and them having matching marks from each other), he understands what it really is. and once they learn he has one too— well. that shows that scar really means it with his little avian! he's serious about him! but... it bothers kane.

and he speaks up about it, mostly just baffled. he's not trying to be mean or anything!

he makes a thoughtless comment to grian—when scar isn't around—about how he wouldn't want to not have a mating mark if his partner had one. he just finds it weird! placing a lot of importance on that level of trust that lets you bite and be bitten.

he continues digging the hole underneath grian's feet by asking, "is it unrequited or something?" he doesn't understand it at all, and in his confusion, struggling with the idea itself, he tacks on: "i'd think my mate doesn't love me if he didn't want to mark me."

because that's how it works with vexes! the bite marks are mutual, and intimate, and they play into their instincts, both ways! kane considers them integral for a mated vex pair, and some other vexes around echo this sentiment.

scar has a feather earring from grian, which is an avian mating ritual, but it's one that doesn't translate to other vexes. they have no idea about things like that! it doesn't make sense to them!

so when grian stammers that he gave scar a feather, nobody takes it seriously. kane doesn't get the gravity of that action at all, and anyway, scar isn't an avian!

kane insists that a feather isn't going to cut it with a vex. he tries to encourage grian to just bite, his advice coming from a place of good intentions. he's seen scar and grian interact plenty by now—including that one time grian jumped in harm's way to defend scar—and he really wants this to work out for them! he's well-meaning!

but grian can't do that. (regardless of some memories we're not going to mention here <3) he doesn't have fangs to smoothly pierce skin and leave a mark like that; doesn't even have the drive, doesn't want to hurt scar in any way.

he stresses about it plenty, though. it worms its way inside his head and now he's Worried about being a failure and a bad partner! because— well, he will always fail scar in this regard, won't he? (that's a thought that terrifies him to no end.)

he can't give him a mating mark. he'll never satisfy that instinct.

scar is honestly perfectly happy with how things are; he treasures the feather immensely and understands what it means. but grian's mind still spirals about this, nitpicks and pokes and prods until it feels wretched and awful.

because sure, scar is happy enough with the feather, but isn't that just a compromise? his vex instincts are a separate thing, and this doesn't touch them at all. it doesn't satisfy them.

and scar's doing so much for grian and his avian instincts! he tries to get high places for them, and helps making nests. he's careful around his wings, and on a rare occasion, preens them with so much gentle care. he tries to coo back when grian makes bird noises, even if it's a bit silly and awkward. basically, he caters to grian's instincts at every step, and... scar needs vex things, doesn't he?

he needs vex things, and grian can't bridge that gap and provide.

no matter how many avian things scar gives him, grian can't give anything back.

grian doesn't really know how to articulate all this. he just gets very upset and stressed, thinking he's doing things wrong, and scar will always be left with some innate longing for more.

but, even though scar spent time learning more deeply about his vex side at the commune, these things were never something he's needed. he went his whole life not knowing anything about vexes. now he knows, and he still wants to be just scar, first and foremost.

of course grian and scar settle this, eventually. they have a broken mess of a talk, and then a couple more, just to really drive the point home. scar understands the avian mating ritual for what it is, the way grian understands what the bite mark on his neck is. and it's enough! they don't need anything more! scar can't exactly give grian a feather either, so what?

as long as the two of them know what they have and are happy with it, who cares what the others think?

there’s one point in particular that scar makes, when grian expresses worrying about not being enough for scar’s vex instincts. softly, he reminds him that he gave grian that mark long before he had any idea it was a vex ritual. 

it was a them thing first and foremost, before it was anything else.

(and he’d like a bruised ring from a hickey just as much as a bite. he’s a smitten fool.)

[whomeidontknowthem]

I was trying to articulate why I like "bad characters", and bitter realism is definitely a reason there, but I was also walking around a much more complicated and also trauma dump-y reason. But fuck it, why not indulge my habit of oversharing on this site, right?

I was, for a period of time that wasn't even that long ago, a kinda Caretaker. And I was bad at it.

It was all honestly kinda whumpy in retrospect.

Whumpee appeared in my life one day, wishing to escape an awful situation and having nowhere to go, so of course I let her in. She was obviously traumatized, and I had enough experience with it to know what was going on, and I tried my hardest to help.

A lot of stuff happened. Holding her bleeding body after she lost consciousness in my bathroom? Check. Having her startle and and stare at me in uncomprehending horror when I did such strange things for her like buy her favorite candies? Check. Spending hours and hours hugging and comforting her through another nightmare, another panic attack, another episode of not being able to move? Check. Holding her hand as she went to a therapist, encouraging trying but allowing her to back down when she ultimately thought she didn't want that? Check. Check check check check. She told some of the wildest stories I've heard before or after. With how some of them went, being a mess of trauma and coping mechanisms was completely understandable.

I tried. My absolute damn hardest. To be the kind of person I wished was there for me: to be steady and calm, supportive no matter what, give her whatever comfort and help I could, never flinching when it crossed my boundaries, because I wanted to help, right? I wanted what was best for her. She deserved so much better, and she didn't have anybody else to turn to, how could I say no?

(tw sexual assault until the end of this paragraph. One of the ways that helped her feel loved and safe was physical contact. I am bad at it. I don't like being touched. But she wanted it, and so I gave it to her, hours of dissociating and waiting for it to end because I wanted to help her. With the need for physical contact came the desire for sex. One day, she touched me and hinted at doing sex (it wasn't the first time) and I fell apart, unable to stop crying for a whole dozen minutes, shaking and wanting nothing more than for everything to stop. I calmed down, and she asked if I was okay, and I answered that sure. She told me it made her feel bad that I didn't want to have sex with her. I didn't want her to feel bad. I gave in. It wasn't the only time, as you can imagine. I was trying to help her -- in whatever way that came.)

Either way. It lasted for about a year. Her health did get better -- no more collapsing on my bathroom floor or being incapable of moving for long stretches of time. She was often exhausted and always brittle, and I tried my damn hardest to never show any frustration, any anger. Healing is hard and recovery isn't linear and it's gonna hurt before it gets better. I knew that from experience. My last suicide attempt was less than a month before she moved in.

I couldn't hide that I was, too, exhausted beyond reason most of the time. Most of my waking time, my every thought was dedicated to trying to figure out what was best for her. Give her time and attention and love, and then swallow back my own triggers when she pulled away because I worded something wrong. Give her my everything, and refuse to acknowledge it was taking a toll on me, because that one time I brought it up she burst into tears and refused to talk to me in fear of being too much. I was trying to help her. I was really, really trying.

I needed a break, and the summer break was coming, and I was expected to come to my hometown and take care of my little brother and my overworked mother for a bit. I told... Whumpee: "I was going to see my family for a bit." I invited her to come with me and promised to visit her in just a couple of weeks. I left her the keys for our shared flat and my credit card in case she needed money.

Two weeks in, she wrote to me that she'd talked to her family (the awful situation she was running away from in the beginning). They told her I was abusive, holding her back and limiting her, and who knows. Maybe I was. I didn't know how to navigate any of that, and I tried to talk her out of continuing with that job she took that threw her back to the whole nose bleeding to the point of dizziness and near collapsing. I didn't want her to hurt herself (kinda because I didn't want to deal with the consequences, because I already felt like I was spread way too thin, trying to care in any way I could), and that was limiting. Maybe I should have let her do whatever she wanted. Just be a safe space for her to return to? I tried to be that, genuinely, but apparently I failed.

Whatever. I don't think I was ever cut out to be a caretaker.

She told me in that message: the fact that I called my mother and brother "family" meant she wasn't my family. Meant I didn't love her. I promised I did, and reminded I was coming home to her soon. Just another week?

By the end of the week she told me she never wanted to see me again. Her right. I didn't try to stop her: it was her decision. I was trying damn hardest to let her decide things and respect these decisions. If being with me sucked and she wanted out, I was damn sure going to respect that. In the beginning, she wanted me to promise I'd never leave her, and I did promise that, ignoring my every reluctance to say the words like "love" or "forever", letting her in and working my best to stump out any of my trauma reactions that would have made me push her away. She promised to stay, too, but that was okay. She was obviously allowed to change her mind. I almost started to believe those nice words she wanted to hear from me, but I knew a forever was a silly fantasy. It was okay. I wanted what was best for her.

I told her that, and by the time I came home our shared flat was empty. It was dirty, too: dishes left in the sink, fridge turned off for some reason, with piles of rotting food inside. That was something to fixate on, the frustration of having to clean up mold instead of the pain of the fact that I had failed and was never going to see her again.

I've never talked to her again. I wanted to. But she told me in no uncertain terms that I was an abusive asshole holding her back, and I didn't want to distress her by reminding her of my existence. If that was so bad, it's for the best if I don't remind her.

As far as I know she's alive. I hope that she's doing better now. I don't know if she does, but I sure damn hope that she found something that works better for her. I was sure not that. Not enough.

But either way. Undoubtedly good caretakers that only want the best and somehow never fail make feel uncomfortable. Guilty, I suppose? They annoy me both because I never had such a person in my life, and because I failed to be such a person. Seeing a character unflinchingly take the burden of the other's whole existence and then manage it, somehow, makes me feel like even more of a failure than I already do. If they can do it, surely I should have tried harder? Be less selfish? More considerate? Less broken, in my own way? Give her more space to make her own decisions, and help her deal with the consequences whatever those were. I don't know what I could have done differently or better, but surely there had to be something. Surely.

I had panic attacks about that for half a year afterwards. Arguably, I had a near panic state just the other week, because of that experience and other fun experiences of my life that are definitely not trauma, nuh-huh. Just thinking about it -- about being required to give my all to someone, again, to push away every emotion, every discomfort, every desire to cry and ask to be left alone, or cry and beg to stop her from leaving. I felt trapped, many times. Letting her hug me when I didn't want to be touched, staring at the ceiling and waiting for it to be over. Desperate for it to be over, sometimes. It sucks that it was like that. She deserved someone who truly wanted her in every way, not the tired facsimile of care.

It took a toll and I wish it hadn't, and I wish I could be better at pretending it hadn't, and I wish I could have been satisfied with making her my entire world (she hated it, when I spent time with other people, I barely talked to any of my friends during the year) the way she wanted to make me hers. I wish it didn't hurt so much more than a year later, some potent mix of failure and guilt and loss and relief and loss again.

It sucks that it went like that.

I'm glad that she left, because I wouldn't have.

Real life is too complicated to put into the nice easy boxes of whump tropes. And that kinda sucks.

[blueheronpronouns]

I started making a post with my thoughts about the debate last night, and I'm back to finish it this morning. Here's what I wrote last night:

This really really REALLY showed off the differences between the two of them in so many ways,,,, Harris went for the handshake, he tried to ignore her. Harris looked at him, and he never looked at her or said her name. Harris was mostly clear and concise and rarely interrupted, and he wouldn't SHUT THE FUCK UP. Overall she comes across as much more put together, sane, and articulate than him (mostly because. she is.)

All of the memes that are coming out of it are insane (eating dogs, killing babies, transgender operations on illegal aliens in prison, Trump lusting over Putin/Kim Jong-un, etc.) and I honestly think we need to not ever shut up about them!!! Keep bringing it up!! Keep making fun of all the stupid shit he says!!! Keep highlighting how genuinely crazy he is!! He doesn't get called out on his bullshit enough so we need to!!

I genuinely think he thinks he's still running against Biden,,, yet another thing to add to the "reasons why he's crazy" list.

I strongly disagree with Harris on some points. There were things she said that made me full-body cringe. However, at the end of the day, I'm still voting for her - I'm too scared of what could happen in another Trump term. I think we still need to pressure her on some of her policies, and that we need to break the two party system (but we need to start small with that one; win local elections first!) but I'll still vote for her come November.

Thoughts this morning:

Taylor Swift supporting Harris is actually really huge. I bet voter registration numbers are going to really go up in the next few days.

Can we PLEASE call Harris by her last name or her full name? We refer to every male presidential candidate by their last names, so why do a lot of people still just call her "Kamala"? (it was brought to my attention that this is a branding decision, which honestly makes a lot of sense! Still leaving this point up though as it feels disingenuous to remove it. I'll also continue to call her Harris, but I feel a lot better about people calling her Kamala now)

Damn that debate was insane. Gotta laugh about how insane our politics are or else I'll cry I guess-

it's so funny that he doesn't even want to be associated with vance,,,

Anyways, that's all I wanted to say- shoutout Tumblr for having the funniest memes about that hellscape of a debate!!!

[bullet-prooflove]

For my falling-asleep scenario I was thinking about Hale/Reader last night. And since I'm a sucker for angst, it was about their first real fight. Idk what your hc are, but I think Hale is someone who says hurtful things he quickly regrets, especially when he feels cornered / attacked. And I feel like she's someone who runs away. And when they argue while at his place, and she tries to leave, he snaps out of it a little and tries to calm the situation down, so she'll at least stay so they can talk about it the next morning. They go to bed grumpy and silently... especially because he can't bounce back so quickly. But they'll figure it out after their first cup of coffee in the morning.

So I think it would take something very hard to rile Hale when it comes to her as I feel they balance each other out. I think she's the more emotional one and he's the stabilty.

However the one thing that is like an ice pick in his brain is Jax Teller. He would lose all rationality if he saw the two of you together esp if he detected a trace of intimacy. He would stew on it the entire day, right up until you stepped through the door. Then he'd be quiet, so quiet. You'd just be chatting about your day like normal when he finally comes out with it and then it esculates.

I think it comes more from a place of worry than anything else, he knows what happens to the women who get tangled up with the Sons, they end up collateral damage.

Donna, accidently killed because Clay thought Opie had turned rat.

Gemma, raped by white supremeists.

Evelyn, Chib's partner, brutalised by Galen, an Irish King.

Suzie Q, Tig's girl, almost killed in an internal beef with Clay.

And that's the women he actually gives knows, that doesn't count the sugarbutts or croweaters that have got caught in the crossfire over the years. He can not stand the idea of something like that happening to you. He doesn't articulate this well, you misread it as jealousy and you lose your shit. It turns into a fight, you end up storming out. He breaks a couple of things out of frustration.

The next day he comes by your place with coffee, you both haven't slept. You both end up sitting on the back porch, sharing a cigarette, you in a robe and him in his uniform.

"I don't want you hurt or dead." He tells you frankly. "And that's where all roads lead with Jax Teller."

"I'm not fucking him."

"I know." he says. "But that doesn't matter to anyone who's gunning for him if you're in his proximity."

He isn't wrong because the thing you've seen that devastation up close and personal, heard it talked about behind closed doors. You were lucky to get out when you did.

"I'm not climbing back into his orbit." You tell him.

"But he wanted you to." David remarks as he blows out a stream of smoke before he passes you the cigarette.

"Yea." You say honestly as you take it from his hands. "He did."

Refs to Chibs & Tigs storylines

[cannellee]

how did you get so good at writing? i'm so deprived of Tokyo Rev content (not that there isn't alot but I read so much that I basically refresh AO3 and tumblrs tags every day to see if anything new has been posted), that i'm almost to the breaking point of a Thanos "fine i'll do it myself" and starting up writing again Is it just practice? Is it better to post cringey writing that isn't that good ;-; I think I fall into the trap of making any OC or y/n Mary Sue and some authors write with such prose and emotion that i'm like dang how can I write like that love your work!!!! always re-reading <3

first of all thank you so much for all of your kind messages!!! you're literally so sweet😭

(I really tried to be useful and concise, I hope it's not too messy/long : i'm definitely not a real author so my tips might be really bad and specific too😭)

I actually started writing tokyorev abo content precisely because of that reason, I felt like I read everything about it and I couldn't find anything more, especially one with scenarios I actually like. this is why I started my blog!

I honestly wasn't so sure about opening my own blog on tumblr. of course you're bound to compare your work to other authors out there who are definitely wayyy better at writing than you, which is why I hesitated a lot.

but! I already had an account on wattpad where I posted fics, so I felt like my cringey era was behind me (it was easier for me to start here because i knew what my mistakes were when writing and what i struggled with. whereas, when i just started on wattpad, i really felt unsure if i was doing correctly + i was younger, so less sure of myself). but wattpad really helped me see what made my work cringey, what parts were unnecessary and stuff like that.

but what is so frustrating is how bad my writing is in english compared to how I'm able to write in my maternal language. like, when I read other posts and everything with better vocabulary, grammar, who know how to articulate sentences and words, you can tell it's something you can only achieve by being reallyyy comfortable with english. I'm not saying I struggle with english or anything, but the language barrier was one of my biggest doubts when I thought about starting posting fics here on tumblr.

also! when I write something and think it's cringey, I let it marinate for a few days and read it again. it's easier to judge my writing when I put some distance with it, then I correct my mistakes and stuff like that. but really, writing and writing is the only way you'll be able to improve, so it should really not stop you!

but in the end, I don't think anybody ever started writing fics and was automatically good at it. you really have to try and see what works and what doesn't. youre able to see what post gets more attention than the other and try and understand why : is it because of a character or the scenario was better or is it your writing ? feedbacks on your work really help actually, so don't be afraid to try even if youre not fully convinced and confident! I posted cringey stuff too and I still do sometimes😭 I know people do a wayy better job than me, but I really like to write so I don't let it stop me from posting.

and for the y/n character, I try to make her and her reactions as neutral as possible and make her do stuff anyone would do in those situations. but I honestly can't deny that I sometimes fall into those stereotypical y/n writing, which I actually enjoy☠️. but I really try to have her say normal stuff, not describe her too much and basically just think of her as the most basic girl you could meet (generic ahh traits : kind, sweet, bubbly, soft spoken...). some people hate that and some don't, I just write what I'm most comfortable with.

same, if you to start writing you should start by doing stuff and scenarios which you really like and inspire you. don't go and try to write something you know people will like, but rather something you're confident in writing because that's a character you like and know how to describe, and because you have so much ideas which would really fit him etc.

and what helped me are the headcanons with the lists. maybe you noticed, maybe you didn't, but I used to list stuff when I started posting. it's just easier to structure my ideas, to see them more clearly. writing huge paragraphs are actually more of a hardwork I think, because everything has to follow the precedent idea and it has to be comprehensible, linked to what you're gonna say next etc. if you list what you wanna say, you can talk about how a character's personality is like and then change the subject radically without having to think and care about the transitions and overall plan (of course if it's too out of pocket it looks weird, but I hope you understand what I mean)

and if you want to write stories and not do little headcanons, what I do when I'm stuck and don't know what to write is that I also sometimes only write a part I really like and leave the beginning (or any other part) for another time when I'll be more inspired. I really don't have any hierarchy when I'm trying to find ideas, I wait for them to come naturally. I don't know what else I could say, it's really messy lmao😭

I hope you found it useful! you definitely will find people who write way better than me and who can help and guide you better than that, with better tips... that was more like my experience on tumblr than anything else, but I hope it could help you!!

[crazymadredfox]

DCST S3E10 Dub: A genuinely impressive feat of adaptation

As I tend to be late with most dr stone stuff someone might’ve already talked about this but whatever i had to make my own post. Last year when i watched this ep and the dub wasn’t out i didn’t give the scene where Gen interprets the note sent by the spy team much thought; but as i’ve since then had some more translation work at uni, and am currently rewatching some episodes, i immediately went to check the dub cause i was ridiculously curious what they did with the scene 

Dr stone dub has always been great, but how they handled this challenge legit made me gain so much more appreciation for it

So under the cut, some of my observations and gushing about it:

Ok, as it goes science team gets the message written with pictograms and work out how to interpret it 

All the versions of the manga i could find just offer the literal translation of this scene, with all the necessary translator notes and romanizations so the reader can understand what is being written in japanese, which is of course fine, especially in this written, static format that makes it easy to follow and understand

Subbed episode also uses this form of translation (although without spelling out most of the japanese words in brackets or something similar - which is honestly not that important so i fully understand the choice to omit it as to not crowd the subtitles), and carries the exact meaning fine, especially with the graphic representation on the screen 

But the dub… 

The dub opts for something completely different and gives us a brilliant example of adaptation in translation (which means it changes the original text in some creative or innovative way to better express the meaning it’s supposed to convey, taking into account the context of its audience) 

This is oftentimes (as is in this case) necessary, but it’s always a brave thing to do and takes a lot of thought and creativity to pull off, but dr stone exceeded all my expectations!!! Twofold: gives an articulate, completely cohesive english solution to the riddles; AND arguably (in my opinion of course) offers a more plausible way for Gen to interpret the last drawing 

So let me get a bit into that, i transcribed the dub segment (contrasted by the manga/sub version in the pictures above) to show why i like the choices made so much: 

Plastic -skipping this one cause it stays mostly the same

Splotch

[Next up we have some sort of splotch. It isn’t there by accident; the shape is too specific. It looks to me like tinder you’d set up for a fire.]

In the sub, Gen interprets it as blood, because it’s an intentional blood stain. And that’s fine, it’s true, but taking into consideration that all other elements of the message are drawings, it makes sense to try to see it as also a drawing. Likewise, it makes sense for Gen to consider ‘tinder’, cause Senku himself also associated it with ‘melting’ earlier when he tried to decipher it. While he does consider it a puddle, it’s the same area of association, and gives the choice to use ‘tinder’ more credibility. 

Hyoga

[The drawing of Hyoga emphasizes his spear, which would normally represent something that inspires fear. Perhaps “strong,” “long-ranged,” “scary.” Though I doubt Ginro would have the guts to cut his finger, so if we’re thinking from Kohaku’s perspective, the spear is a nuisance at best.]

I really love Gen’s logic in this. 

In the manga, by establishing that Ginro is too cowardly and it must’ve been Kohaku drawing with blood (which is information necessary for the last drawing’s interpretation), that assertion is used only to discard the possibility of ‘scary’ as the thing the spear is meant to represent. Additionally, what caught my eye is that while the necessity of taking into account Kohaku’s perspective, the word used in japanese ‘nagai’ (long) - which is the literal presentation of the drawing: the spear Kohaku drew is long, and her intention might’ve been literal in that sense (she could’ve circled the spear to show it’s meant to be emphasized, not draw it long). But then it kinda neglects Gen’s own rule about the specific perspective by using the actual literal characteristic of the drawing 

While in the dub it serves all those functions of establishing who is drawing, then why it disregards the notions that inspire fear (and by association all the following words Gen thinks of, that Kohaku wouldn’t use) AND gives a very believable word (‘nuisance’) that makes sense when paired with Kohaku 

Engine

[And finally, an engine. Or so it looks, but Kohaku may not remember every single invention. It could be a furnace, or a refrigerator for all she knows. With that in mind, perhaps it’s supposed to be something more generic like “machine,” which is my bet.]

But this I think is my absolute favorite choice and where most elevation from the source material can be seen. The idea that Kohaku didn’t mean engine is essential in both manga and dub, but they take it in completely different directions. In the manga Gen uses it to decipher that Kohaku means furnace instead of engine, because by drawing engine she just means invention, and the most important invention for her is the furnace. And then through her associative net, she uses it as a substitute for one of the characteristics of a furnace. This is fine, it makes sense, and it’s impressive that Gen gets it. 

Sounds they decipher from this are from ‘attakai’ (warm) that will fit within the sentence Kohaku wrote in the form of additional words besides platinum (I’ll elaborate on this a bit more soon)

But the way dub tackles this completely differently: Gen assumes the same thing, that Kohaku doesn’t mean engine specifically, because she doesn’t remember all the inventions, but rather than zeroing in on a specific assumption of the furnace, Gen concludes it’s any, more complex, mechanical invention. And I think this is absolutely brilliant. It follows a much more sound logic with less logical leaps:

Engine -> Kohaku doesn’t remember all inventions -> it could be any of them so it must be general -> machine 

Rather than: 

Engine -> Kohaku doesn’t remember all inventions -> invention she and the village gained most from is furnace -> she must mean furnace -> warmth

Here it makes sense considering Kohaku’s character, she is sentimental and cares deeply about the village, and Senku does kinda brute-force his way to deciding it’s warmth BUT my point is that this is more convoluted than dub’s solution 

(Again, to reinforce: both of these are great and they make complete sense, and manga makes Gen more impressive for being able to string that path of thought, but dub is more logical)

And on a more general note but still tied to the last drawing the most: dub makes the choice of having Kohaku spell just “platinum”, while manga goes for a sentence, which of course means it uses more characters ergo it’s harder to guess. But solely based on the efficiency they know how to exhibit, I truly believe just spelling “platinum” is enough to carry the meaning to Senku (it’s not like he has any platinum to send them; they came to the island searching for platinum). For this dub just needed the m from ‘machine’

Manga goes for a sentence, and most of the word for warmth spells out the verb, which I believe to be unnecessary for Senku to get the picture 

ANYHOW, this has been going on for too long: the point of this is to try to convey how impressed i am with the way the translation team handled the very difficult challenge of depicting such a complex logical and linguistical problem to the viewers and maybe inspire appreciation for this commendable work, because as i’ve learned, trying to make it believable and natural for something that is already so complex in the native language is hard, and all the choices the translation made are sooooo well suited for the audience

I love this scene in all its reiterations and I love Gen <333, i just wanted to put these thoughts i had into a post or they wouldn’t leave me alone

[soracities]

Re: that anon who thinks kids are evil

I'm really sorry that anon went through a tough time during childhood (and I did too, being bullied at school and abused at home) but kids aren't fundamentally evil. They're IMPRESSIONABLE. which is incredibly different. They like imitating adults around them, and so when they are surrounded by terrible, mean adults, they act terrible and mean towards themselves & their peers too. It was apparent that anon was surrounded by adults who weren't nice and didn't do their job of educating those kids (including offering anon support), which is really sad.

But regardless of that, kids simply learn from people around them and they can be, and most often are, sweet and nice. and most importantly, even if they aren't sweet or nice, they are deserving of love and compassion and respect and affection, because only with that can we cultivate and nurture the sweet & kind side in their soul.

I feel like if anon felt alienated for being different, they should especially beware of such generalizing rhetoric of "all kids are [insert adjective]" because that's the exact kind of speech that isolates and alienates kids who act different. And I wonder if anon realizes that it was their abuser's language that's coming out of their mouth.

(source: im an educator and ive never known a kid who's not sweet and lovable to me)

(cont'd) also, kind of unrelated but it made me think of this absolutely heartbreaking, sweet kid that I met on Tuesday during a visit to a kindergarten. I was supposed to go to different kindergartens to evaluate their teaching and give consultations, and a part of what I need to do is this one-on-one language assessment with the kids (age five and their mother tongue isn't english). So there was this girl, whose first words after sitting down was "I don't know any English." And I was like haha it's alright! Let's just try and see how much you know, then we can see where you can practice more on! And she went "okay >_<" (rather earnestly, like she didn't say she doesn't know shit because she didn't want to try) So we did a task, and she scored above average so I was like "You did really well! Why did you say you don't know anything?" and she went "But I still got two wrong :(" which was like, wtf girl who fucked up your self-esteem?? Kindergarten aged kids should feel like they're the coolest smartest shit in the world!! Like I was already ready to fight for her at this point okay Anyways I said "it's alright, now you know where you can work on!" and did another task with her, which she also did pretty well in So I tried to tell her some cliche encouragement like "sometimes we feel like we don't know anything because we feel scared, but when we be brave and try things out, usually we know a lot more than we thought we could! Just like you right now, look at how well you did! So please believe in yourself more" And this little girl deadass looked me in the eye and told me, very sincerely, "because mommy doesn't believe in herself, so I don't believe in myself either :(" I controlled my face, but internally my jaw was on the fking floor and I was screaming crying pulling my hair out. I was so HEARTBROKEN. Like I need to talk to that woman coz what did you do to your kid?? What did you project on her?? And this kid is so smart?? She is so self-aware like she is able observe her mother's emotions & understand her mentality and THEN recognize how her mother's mentality shapes her own?? Honestly, I don't think the majority of people at my age right noweven realize how others' mentality relate to their own. And she is able to articulate all that! Which just makes her statement extra sad, because she is so so smart and observant but she believes she doesn't know anything and that she is bad at school, which is fucking WRONG And I was just so fking devastated!! I want to hug her I want to adopt her I want to fix everything for her but I don't know how I could ever do that. I am not even her teacher, I'm just a nobody who comes once a month for some dumb observations and just, I don't have the ability to do anything significant enough. I tried my best to smile and said "oh no... but you said you think mommy is smart right? she just doesn't know that herself! and I think you are also very good, so you need to remember it for me okay?" and she was like ok >< Then I went home and cried for an hour cause I just feel so... powerless and like what am I doing?? What can I even do to change things for her and kids like her?? When and how will I ever be enough to make her feel happy and brilliant and innocent and no need to act so mature??? Kids are my soft spot and I don't think I will ever cease to feel heartbroken for them. They are so precious and trusting and loving yet so many adults just... betray that trust and abuse that love. And it is so easy to break them but so hard to build them back up, which is simply unfair. Anyways sorry for the venting (sort of) I just want to pour these out because I love kids so much and I want to hug them all and they are so precious and lovable and incredible. I guess my point is just please love and be kind to the kids you know and encounter cause you don't want to fuck them up and not to mention how could you feel anything but adoration when you interact with them

oh my God..................please don't apologize, I'm so, so grateful you took the time to write and share this because I could not agree with you more. I think people really don't seem to understand the depth to which children understand and interpret and process things and it is truly one of the most illuminating and profoundly humbing things to witness and be part of. For what it's worth I think your presence and your conversation absolutely meant something to that little girl and I believe it makes a difference to have validation like that, even just for a day 💗 The kids you work with are very lucky to have someone who cares so deeply about their wellbeing and, heartbreaking as I know it can be, I hope you don't forget that 💗

[horsetailcurlers2]

hi hello! sorry this is extremely random but you literally have the best analysis! a friend and i were talking about derek shepherd and the way his trauma affected him throughout his life. something along the lines of how his trauma compares to amelia. he tries to save everyone (falling in love with broken women) and how amelia destroys herself. and i was wondering if you had any thoughts about that? :)

hi! and omg thank you that’s very nice considering i feel like most of my analyses are just me word vomiting incoherently in an empty room and scratching at the walls lmao.

okay i will try to do my best here but i don’t know how much sense this will make or if i have anything new or interesting to say. i don’t really consider myself a derek expert (NOT that i consider myself an addison expert or anything but i do spend considerably more time thinking about her than i do about him). but YES you’re so right

something that i think is interesting is that we get a lot more direct focus on amelia’s trauma than we do derek’s. maybe that’s just the byproduct of her struggle with addiction or maybe it’s because private practice was often a lot more character focused than grey’s. i also think, at the risk of sounding uncharitable towards meredith (whom i adore with all my heart) that a lot of times on the show, his issues take a backseat to hers- although that may also just be a deliberate choice on his part or because its her fucking show lol. but  i find it interesting that he is vulnerable about her but rarely ever vulnerable with her.

i find the shepherd family dynamic endlessly fascinating and i especially think a lot about the idea of derek and amelia being the two out of the flock that were so directly impacted by their father's death. the math on grey’s is sloppy at best but it’s stated a few times that amelia was five years old. i think derek may have said he was eleven but that gets contradicted so i always just placed him between eleven and thirteen.

before i get into derek specifically i want to talk about amelia bc i love your point about the comparison/contrast of them in the wake of that shared trauma. i think that honestly the driving factor for her addiction wasn’t necessary the shooting itself, but the aftermath. amelia shepherd really pokes at my Little Sister Syndrome and i think her conversation with carolyn after the fake husband dinner was especially telling. amelia frequently describes her mom as “the best/great” (addison describes carolyn as a great mom too iirc) but after christopher’s death, carolyn was not as attentive to amelia as she was to her other children. that combined with amelia being the youngest with such a large age gap makes me think she had a pretty isolated childhood. there was a sort of disconnect from her siblings who were much older, her mother was changed by grief, and her father was gone. for a huge chunk of her adolescence, most of amelia’s family was already moved out of the house. not that i don't think the shooting itself or the trauma of losing her father had a big impact on her but i think a lot of her issues stem from feeling abandoned by the rest of her family. i think her addiction resurfaces when she feels most alone/abandoned. i think that a part of her is trying to avoid feeling the depth of her loneliness and a part of her is trying to be loud and take up space a) so that the people in her life will notice her b) like she couldn’t that day in the store with derek’s hand over her mouth. 

derek on the other hand, was old enough to be cognizant and understanding of what was happening that day in the store. he 100% felt a responsibility to protect his little sister and i also think he felt extremely powerless that he couldn’t save his father. obviously derek has a bit of a god complex but he also does have a savior complex. 

he protected amelia by keeping her quiet. i think that’s actually a big part of it (for both of them). also idk how to articulate this well and i’m no psychologist but derek only likes his women broken to a certain extent. i think he likes to be needed but he doesn't want them to be needy. he doesn't like when it’s not something he can fix with some immediacy (the powerlessness again) and his discomfort with being unable to fix it makes him lash out and withdraw. he liked saving meredith, until her trauma deeply affected how she behaved in the relationship. he liked (and this part is 80% assumption and conjecture from my addek brain) being able to soothe the wounds from addison’s childhood (her loneliness and feelings of inadequacy) until her “neediness” started to feel cloying and almost accusatory. 

so imo derek likes to save people, until they are too difficult to save. it's established that he is VERY black and white, which is why he thrives in brain surgery which has finite rules and steps he can follow in order to save people’s lives and bring relief to their families. he's good at surgery. its where he turns when he's feeling lost in his personal life. the guy clearly has some control issues. conversely, when things are going poorly at work (i.e jen harmon), he doubts EVERYTHING about himself and his choices bc the one thing he can always control is destabilized. 

i think that derek gets angry when he feels guilty which ties back to him lashing out and withdrawing when he can't fix something/someone. I think this is a huge component of his tension with amelia. he is extremely judgmental of her struggles with addiction, and he (like their other siblings) has trouble separating Adult Amelia from Teen Amelia. maybe a part of him has always felt like her addiction was his fault. like, if he had shielded her better, she would have less pain (which isn't true). so while on the surface, it seems like maybe he is just harsh on her because he is tired of her shit and still angry about the chaos she caused before she went to rehab the first time, a lot of it i think is actually resentment/anger because he feels guilty (and again, anger/moodiness is how derek reacts to guilt).

its an oversimplification, but i think what a lot of it boils down to is little preteen derek with his arms wrapped around his baby sister, holding his breath and needing to use both his hands to keep her still and quiet, and it has to do with her watching her father’s blood on the floor and being unable to scream. of course there's also the aftermath (amelia’s loneliness and how much grief she had to fit in such a small body, derek’s guilt, anger, and the horrible feeling that he's somehow now “the man of the house”)

idk this isn't well organized and certainly not as articulate as it could’ve been but god i do love thinking about the derek and amelia of it all. tysm for the ask. srry for the long-winded answer :)

[rawbin-hsr]

The previous anon articulated it so well bc I just saw what they're talking about and I'm honestly confused why they thought u were saying anything wrong like 😭😭 are we sure we have the same guy here? Aventurine while yes knows what being loved feels like, he's gone through enough things and changes in life that that little frame of reference won't serve him well, especially within a romantic context bc he doesn't have ANY reference.

I read what you wrote as him not really meaning to (even reread) and yeah, he wouldn't Purposely want to be abusive to his romantic partner, but it still borders on it. What a lot of ppl get wrong is that, emotional abuse doesn't have to always mean the perpetrator is fully aware of it themself.

Maybe bc I myself have bpd, but it's so easy to see. When someone's avoiding negative feelings they have about themself (jealousy, insecurity etc) they can easily externalize this blame (and for him, that's so much more likely, it's literally a defense mechanism) or even, projecting his own view of himself on how you view him only to end up upset. (And then, the random clinginess that comes after this pushing away, why would it happen if not for trying to convince you to stay even though what he keeps doing is generally not a good thing to do in a relationship?) He wouldn't have known healthy attachment, didn't grow up with a safety net to be comfortable with that, hell, he thinks people closest to him (in canon) are sort of "tolerating" him. Are we really surprised?

Like, you never said aventurine is doing it with intent or even awareness bc yea he isn't!! He'd realize some of his actions sure, but stuff like "pushing you away" is probably shit he genuinely considers good for you, and it's not even like completely wrong he's in a high and risky position. Doesn't mean it wouldn't hurt like a mf, and I think that's the biggest tragedy of it all, because he doesn't fully realize how bad his actions are from another pov, and it's not like a single Convo can get him to understand that.

Anyway, sorry that was a lot more incoherent than I thought and I was firmly stating a lot of things bc I can pull up stuff to back my claim but ALSO bc they pissed me off if u don't like something just scroll I've been doing that for years on this app I never felt the need to go yell at someone bc I don't agree with how they interpret a character 😒😒😒😒 I hope ur feeling better, rsd sucks ass I always get so overwhelmed whenever I experience it but ur intent came across very clearly actually dw

I’m literally in tears I’m so grateful multiple people are taking the time to reassure me thank you so much 🥹🥹🥹 I was really doubting myself and my own take on him, it makes me feel so relieved I’m not the only one who has this specific take on him haha I was lowkey worrying I was a terrible person for a moment there 😭

And yes, exactly !!!! I think you were very coherent in this, in fact I think you formulated what I meant to say better than I did 😭😭 Like there’s a lot, a LOT of nuance to it !!! He never does it out of malice. He just doesn’t know any better. He tries to do what’s right and what’s best for you, he’s just… kind of not good at that because his whole perspective is skewed.

I do still think they were right that I shouldn’t have used the word ‘abuse’. It’s a very loaded term, and I think abuse requires a power dynamic, which is something I think he would try to eliminate in a relationship. Like, yes, he is a powerful man and he sort of needs some leverage to stay in control (of both his own life and his relationship with you), but I think he fucking hates the idea of being “above you” in any way. (Though to be fair he still could unintentionally create an uneven power dynamic — he’s the one mostly in charge of when the two of you interact. I think he loathes himself even more when he realises that.) I think it would be best to stick to the word “toxic” because it feels most fitting from my pov