#sometimes I see posts on here that sound like they were written by people who bullied me in high school and everyone just agrees with them

[mangora]

Bullying people for being obviously insecure still isn’t cool, you guys just hate people with social anxiety

[teatoptony]

The Whole Being Soulmates Thing

summary; in this world, soulmates exist. he has one. it’s just that he already found someone, and your marks don’t match at all.

or, in which a stupidly stubborn punk in stupidly in love with someone who’s not his stupid ‘real’ soulmate.

pairing; hobie brown x reader, spider-punk x reader (soulmate!au)

warning(s); mentions of police brutality, not-too-detailed descriptions of injuries. r is non-gendered, no mention of r’s race. not proofread & written in the wee hours.

i am not black, i don’t have wicks. i did some research on how to properly care for them and wrote tiny parts in here with the info i had, but it may not be totally accurate. if something is wring, let me know. same for the lcp.

also hobie might sound a bit ooc but it’s a quiet fic and we don’t rly see him ‘quiet’ so eat my ahh(/j)

inspired by this post by @corrodedcoffeen ! not exactly 100% accurate but yea

He lived in a world full of soulmates and soulmarks.

Everyone who had a soulmate had a soulmark, like a little tattoo; whether it be on their arm, leg, back, even on their face. Sometimes, a person would have multiple soulmarks. In other cases, they wouldn’t have any at all. Some people were born with their marks, some appeared later down the line.

In most cases, people would do anything to find their soulmate. To be with them. To unite with their missing half.

Hobie Brown was among those who’d been born with a soulmate. Four little streaks that wrapped halfway around his left arm, like a scar from an animal that had halfheartedly tried to claw the whole thing off at birth.

Hobie loved his soulmark.

Not because he’d met his soulmate. Nor was it because the idea of a predestined partner made him giddy. No, it was because he felt a sense of pride whenever he looked at it. Pride that he’d beaten the system when he got you.

His thoughts wander as he sits on your your and his shared bed, a towel flat under his bum to prevent any grime that may be on his suit from rubbing off on the sheets. His vest and T-shirt had been haphazardly folded and placed on the bathroom sink, desperately needing a thorough cleaning after a particularly hard day, which left his torso bare for you to assess and repair the damage he’d been dealt once you peeled off the top half of his suit.

“Bit eager, yeah?” He’d joked as you hastily helped him out of his clothes, that cheeky smirk still shining through on his tear-streaked face. You’d answered with an exasperated laugh.

He had come home at two in the morning, stumbling through the window with a hand over the right side of his mask. When he’d ripped it off, tossing it on a random bit of the floor somewhere, you were met with red eyes, wet cheeks, a runny nose and a blood-crusted lip. Apparently, he’d been at the frontlines of a protest when one of the tear gas shells hit him right in the face, cracking his right eye lense and leaving him vulnerable to the gas’s full effect. You didn’t need to be told what happened to know what came next. After all, it was always the same routine with the pigs - gas the crowd and beat any individuals that strayed from the mass.

Now, as Hobie’s fingers tap a little rhythm on the mattress, your hands glide a washcloth long his skin, being careful to minimize pressure on his bruises. Which, granted, is hard when they cover most of his back and ribcage, but you made it work somehow. Tear gas residue sticks to anything it can, and although his body was mostly had been mostly covered, it gave the both of you peace of mind to clean anything off just in case. He thanks you by softly gripping your other hand, his fingers lacing together with yours.

“Need more milk?” You ask, going to put the cloth down and grab the already half-empty sprayer on the ground next to the bed, having already been used in the bathroom just minutes prior and put there just in case. He shakes his head, the hand that’s not on yours gently grabbing your wrist and guiding it back to his chest.

As you continue, he thinks back to the first time he’d held your hand like that.

It was when the two of you were barely teenagers, when he didn’t fully understand how the whole ‘soulmates’ thing even worked, or how messed up it really was. The only thing he really knew was that people were supposed to stay together forever if their marks matched, even if that wasn’t always the case.

Having known each other since you were just kids, he remembers wishing so badly that your soulmark matched his. He had wished that little planet on your ankle could be washed away, a temporary tattoo or doodle instead of an actual mark. He remembers drawing little black holes at the corners of his school worksheets, hoping that one of them would eventually swallow your mark whole and replace it with four lines identical to his.

Back then, he had wished his ugly little bands would somehow arrange themselves into a square. At least then he could insist that his mark was a planet. A weird square one, yeah, but a planet just like yours.

But as you looked at him with that warm glow in your eyes, he swore you were the best thing that had ever happened to him, soulmate or not.

If only that kid could see him now - here, with you.

He suppresses a smile that threatens to slip onto his face, as moving his lips makes the cut sting.

“You almost gave me a heart attack,” you mutter, wiping at the last bit of his torso. Hobie lets out a low sigh.

“‘M sorry love,” he says back, giving your hand a little squeeze. He really does mean it. He hates seeing the worry and sadness in your eyes every time he came back to you after one of these days. Fuck knows how he’d cope with it if you came home like this just every now and again, let alone what seemed like every other day recently. “I do try to be careful.”

You hum in response, getting up from your spot and holding out your hand for him to do the same. He does so with little to no hesitation, only waiting a moment to brace himself for the soreness that would follow. You lead him to the bathroom.

“Everything off,” you say, then immediately follow it up with, “Don’t.”

“I didn’t even say nothin’!” Hobie protests, feigning offense. As if that glint in his eye didn’t give it away.

“You need to get cleaned off properly.” You stress the lest word, letting go of his hand so that he can strip. “You can’t just go to bed after a quick wipe-down tonight. You need a shower.”

“But it’s gonna be cold.” Hobie groans. Tear gas wasn’t anything new, he’d had to clean the residue off of himself more times than he could count. That didn’t mean he was a fan of the cold showers that did most of the actual cleaning. Despite his complaints, he hastily steps out of his remaining articles of clothing as you start the water.

His muscles tense as he steps into the shower, pulling him out of his somewhat drowsy state. He quickly scrubs every part of his body, wanting to get out as fast as possible.

He washes his hair out last, taking care to not mess them up no matter how much he hates the temperature of the water. He’d made the mistake of trying to shampoo the whole of his head in one go just once before, and he’d be damned if he had to go running to the auntie down the street again to fix any tangles neither you nor him could sort out.

In his defense, he’d almost bled out just a couple hours beforehand that day. Having your first (superhero-related) near-death experience tends to shake you up a little.

“You’re such a man-baby,” you’d teased him as Hobie gripped your hand for dear life, the woman you’d guaranteed could get that nightmare of a knot out sorting through his hair with an arsenal of olive oil and a wide toothed comb.

“Oh piss off—” his reply was cut short as she detangled a particularly nasty bit of the problem, unfortunately having to tug exceptionally hard at his head. “Ow!”

The woman - Aunt Margaret, as you’d introduced her - tsked at him to sit still, poking at the tangle with the handle of her comb to see if it would give way now. Luckily, most of it did. She muttered something along the lines of ‘young people nowadays’, but in a sort of gruffly affectionate sort of way. From what you’d told him, Aunt Margaret was sort of the neighborhood mom, always helping people who needed it no matter how much she gave them grief for it.

The three of you made small talk over tea after his hair was nice and hairball-free, albeit a little slippery. Turned out, Aunt Margaret had plenty of stories of her own to share. Hobie had been delighted to hear about everything that had happened when she was a part of the League of Colored Peoples, almost ready to practically beg the woman to adopt him.

Two weeks later, when he decided to drop by again, the topic of soulmates came up. Aunt Margaret asked if he’d found his soulmate yet, to which he replied he didn’t believe in the soulmate system. She nodded in agreement.

“Just as well,” she had said, a frown making its way onto her face. “I’ve seen too many good people get their hearts broken because of that bloody mark.” She eyed his upper arm, exposed in the sleeveless top he’d worn at the time. “I got mine covered ages ago.”

“Did you meet your soulmate before that?”

Aunt Margaret shook her head. “That’s a story for another time, Bartholomew.”

He still makes time for tea with her every week or so.

The second he steps out of the shower, he’s greeted with a huge, warm towel fresh from the dryer. He wraps it around himself as you usher him back to the bedroom where you’d laid out some comfy clothes for him. Out of the corner of his eye, he notices the clothes he’d discarded on the bathroom floor is long gone, along with his vest and tee that were sitting on the sink.

“I put the studs out on the veranda to air out,” you say, noticing him glance at the empty sink. “They’ll need washing, though. My eyes got all weird when I looked at the vest too close, and your belt’s not much different. The rest of everything’s in the machine.”

Pulling on his bottoms, Hobie silently nods at your words before pulling the tank top you’d dug out for him over his head. He then walks over to place a kiss on your head. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you close to leech off your warmth. He lets out a little noise of contentment when he feels you hug him back.

Wordlessly, he walks the two of you to your the shared vanity, plopping himself down on the seat. You grab the hairdryer off the table, checking to make sure it’s okay for you to help before switching it on to dry his wicks. Hobie closes his eyes as you make your way through each piece, eventually stopping once there’s no more water to be purged. Your fingers sorting through his hair so carefully is calming - almost therapeutic, and it takes all his willpower to keep himself sitting straight up for you.

After that, he clumsily grabs you and throws you over his shoulder, ignoring how you yelp in surprise and unplugging the dryer. He then proceeds to carry you around your place, flicking off all the lights before getting back to the bedroom and (softly) throwing you on the mattress.

“Was that really necessary?” You groan as he throws the sheets over the both of you. Hobie then proceeds to drag himself half on top of you, using you as a full body pillow.

“Definitely.” He replies, his voice a bit muffled against your pajamas.

You laugh. “Sure.”

He tilts his head up to give you a goodnight kiss, murmuring ‘dream ‘bout me’ next to your ear to which you respond by playfully pushing him away.

“Rude,” He mutters, smiling into your clothes as he huffs in indignation. Your laugh echoes through your body, a sound more beautiful than any music he had or would ever hear.

He doesn’t fall asleep too easily that night. Rogue thoughts on soulmates and fate flinging about his skull. For some reason, they’d all picked tonight to bug him to pieces.

Unknowingly, his grip around you tightens, feeling your weight in his arms. It grounds him as all the doubts try to throw him off, to destabilize something perfectly happy.

What if they find their soulmate? Then they’ll decide if they want me or them. (Me.)

What if I find my soulmate? What, like I’d break their heart for a stranger? Yeah. Fat chance.

He swatted those questions away like pesky little mosquitoes until he eventually fell asleep, choosing to focus instead on your heartbeat ringing in his ears.

So what if you two weren’t soulmates? He loves you, you love him. That’s all that matters.

The universe can suck an egg.

—

The next morning, Hobie woke up at 11, as usual. You woke up right after him as he stirred, like you always did. The two of you lounged in the comfort of your the sheets for a while before you had to eventually get up for breakfast.

Hobie was trailing behind you on your walk to the kitchen when something catches his eye.

His reflection in the vanity mirror.

Something’s… off.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh shit.

“Y/n?” He calls, looking down at his upper arm just to make sure the mirror isn’t playing tricks on him. Sure enough, there it is.

You turned around at his voice, eyebrows furrowed in a confused way. “Hm?”

“Look.”

He watches as your confusion morphed into surprise and then back to confusion again. Then you auickly check your ankle, confusion turning into realization.

“We match.”

Your soulmarks had somehow changed overnight, turning into small, stylized sun symbols that stand out more than either of your marks before ever did, clear as day.

It’s a few moments of stunned silence before laughter breaks out between the two of you.

“You know what we have to do now,” you manage, an arm around the front of your midsection and the other hand on your face.

“I think I do.” Hobie says, practically wheezing

By the end of the day, the two of you have covered up your new soulmarks with mismatching tattoos.

[poopwons]

**Break My Heart**-Ft. Jean Kirstein 18+ MDNI!!

Synopsis: You and Jean break up, he doesn't know what to do with himself. Maybe you'll call him? (surprise, you will)

Content: (NSFW), F!Reader, Jean’s POV, post break up feelings, angst, cursing, depressed Jean, pet names, handjobs, fingering, praise kink, Jean has a teensy bit of a size kink, collaring (if you squint), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, people), cream pie, hair pulling, light alcohol consumption

a/n: I have never written anything this long before, but I got the idea in my head and it would not get out so, here it is. I was literally driving home from work listening to Olivia Rodrigo and Happier came on, so that's what inspired this 🥰 Huge shoutouts to @jeanboyjean and @cowgirlikets for encouraging me through this entire process!💜💜💜 ***also I know absolutely nothing about plumbing, so sorry if all of that is completely inaccurate LOL***

words: 6.9k

Two months, four days.

That’s how long it’s been. That’s the last time Jean saw you in person, talked to you at all. Sure, he’s wanted to reach out, he’s gotten drunk a few times and Connie had to wrench his phone out of his hands when he saw your name on the screen. Jean had yelled at him, tried to push him off, but Connie ended up with the phone, locking it away before helping Jean to bed. All in all Connie was looking out for him more than anyone else. That’s what good roommates are for, right?

Though, Jean is sure that Connie never expected to ever see his friend like this. Hell, Jean never thought he’d be this way; he never even thought of the possibility of the two of you splitting at all. The first week after you told him you didn’t want to keep seeing him, he stayed in bed, blaring awful sad songs, just wallowing in his own self pity. He supposes he still is, even months later.

The days without you have slowed to a crawl. He still thinks about you all the time, it takes all his will power not to scroll through your instagram, wondering if you’re thriving without him, or if you’re just as fucked up as he is. He doesn’t want to know, he’s not that desperate yet. Still, thoughts of you plagued him every moment it seemed like. Who does he make breakfast for now? Making a single serving for himself just seems.. pathetic, pointless, in comparison to making something for you.

The two of you had a great routine, his favorite, he thinks. You’d wake up, curled in his arms, peppering little kisses to his face, trying to wake him up. He’d groan at you before running his hands to your sides to tickle you, calling you a menace for disturbing a man’s sleep. The little giggles he’d pull from you were his favorite sound, he’d never heard anything better. Then he’d get up, make coffee and breakfast for the two of you while you showered. Sometimes he’d say fuck the breakfast and shower with you instead. Hot water cascading down the two of you, the smell of your shampoo in his nose as he kissed the back of your neck while washing your hair. Fuck. He needs to stop. Think about anything else, he curses himself, his brain can’t keep doing this to him, can it?

But, turns out, it can. Who makes your tea the way you like it, muddled with honey and a splash of cream? Who else knows that you only want earl grey when it’s raining because that’s what your mom would give you when you came inside from splashing around in puddles when you were little? That you want chamomile when you’re sick, and coffee most mornings, unless you’re anxious, then you want English breakfast. Who knows the way you order your meals from your favorite restaurants? That you don’t like water chestnuts because “they’re too crunchy without enough flavor”, or that you hate fast food lettuce but will completely devour the caesar salad from the diner downtown because you say the lettuce is always “the perfect amount of crisp and never soggy”? What does he do with all this little information that he’s learned about you, that’s now completely useless to him since you’re not here?

Connie managed to drag Jean out to go have lunch with him and Sasha the next day. It’s the first time he’s been out in weeks for something other than work. He’s dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, the most he can manage with how exhausted he’s been. The little chain that you picked out for him draped across his collarbones. He likes that memory. You dragged him into a jewelry store, showing him the necklace, saying something about how you thought it’d look good on him. He was never much of a jewelry person, but for you? He agreed, but only if you’d get a matching bracelet, and you did. You said it was your favorite, you loved it so much, and it went on like that, the two of you, in your matching pieces, wearing them everyday…

“Jean,” Connie breaks him out of his thoughts, he wonders if he could tell that he was thinking about you again.

“What,” his tone is flat, nothing like his usual light hearted one.

“Dude, don’t you think you should take that off?”

Jean looks down at his chain, then back at Connie, a frown plastered on his face.

“No, I don’t want to take it off.”

“Look, man, I know you’re still upset, but.. doesn’t that make it worse?”

Jean can’t stand the look of pity he’s getting, he shrugs and doesn’t reply. Take it off? And then what, get rid of it? No. No, he can’t get rid of it, you got it for him. It would be like throwing you away.. and he’s just not ready to do that, he doesn’t know if he’ll ever be.

Sasha kicks Connie under the table, the two of them had clearly talked about how to handle today and it seems like Connie is going off script. Jean can’t take it anymore, he can’t stand the way his friends are looking at him, he wants to look anywhere else. So, he does what he’s been trying to avoid. He pulls out his phone, opening up your instagram. You haven’t posted in a while, but there is one new picture. Jean’s heart lurches into his throat when he sees it. Who is that? Why is he with you? He’s never seen this guy before and he doesn’t like it, right down to his stupid green eyes, that idiotic man bun, and that shit-eating smile plastered on his face, like he’s mocking Jean without even trying. The picture is innocent enough, a selfie with his arm around you. But why is he touching you? Why are you letting him? Did you really move on this fast? Did you forget about Jean already? Is this the real reason you ended things with him, for this other guy?

He hears a faint grunt from across the table, then Sasha is talking to him, he hardly hears it, the blood is rushing in his ears. Connie snatches his phone from his hand, Jean can’t even find the energy to snap at him. Connie groans when he sees the screen.

“Shit, man… I was hoping you wouldn’t see that.” Connie practically winces when he meets Jean’s eyes, tears welling up in them. His voice breaks when he finally speaks up.

“Who is that with her?” He sounds like the world has been ripped from him.

Sasha speaks up from her side of the table, having seen the post as well. “I don’t know.. maybe they’re just friends. Don’t overthink it, it’ll be okay.”

He sends a pitiful look her way, it most definitely would not be okay. He takes his phone back from Connie, rising from the table, hell bent on getting back home. His brain is going a mile a minute thinking about you and.. whoever that was.

Two months, fifteen days.

He stays in his room all week. Barely leaving, laid up in bed scrolling through your entire instagram. All the pictures of you and him are gone. He can’t believe you got rid of them, did you delete them off your phone entirely? Were all those pictures slowly being replaced by new ones with this guy? He hates the thought of this stranger taking up camera space that should be his. He knows he shouldn’t.. looking through this idiot’s instagram isn’t going to make him feel any better, but he has to know why you chose him instead.

He swipes through this guy’s pictures, he’s even got a stupid name. Who spells their kids' name Eren? There aren’t a ton of posts, but the few that Jean does see has him rolling his eyes, gym selfies and photos of him playing a guitar, his long hair flowing down his shoulders. Great, so he’s ripped and talented. Jean’s not out of shape by any means, but he isn’t as cut as that, especially since he’s been skipping the gym the past couple of months, unable to find the energy to go, and he definitely can’t play any instruments. Maybe he should learn, would that impress you enough to finally reach out to him? No, that would take way too long, he wants to hear from you so much sooner than that. Maybe he can start growing his hair out.. would you like that? You never complained about his hair before but, this whole thing has thrown him for a loop. He’s questioning everything about himself wondering what Eren has that he doesn’t. Maybe Eren’s better in bed? No, that can’t be it. You never once complained about Jean’s performance, all those pretty sounds you made when he touched and kissed and sucked at all the right spots. No, he definitely knew what he was doing in that department. So, that can’t be it, which almost makes it worse. That must mean Jean failed you in some other way as a partner. Was he not attentive enough, not supportive enough? Did he not make enough time for you? Maybe he should have tried to plan more dates. The thoughts go on and on like this until he finally falls into a fitful sleep, what little dreams he has are plagued with you laughing at Eren’s stupid jokes, of you being happier with Eren than you ever were with him.

Jean is sitting up on the sofa in the living room, Connie had begged him to at least come out of his room so he knows the poor guy’s still alive. Jean is scrolling through yours and Eren’s pages, checking yet again for any more posts.

“Dude, seriously? Are you looking at that guy’s page again?” Connie asks, as he sits down on the couch with a bowl of cereal.

Jean gives him a noncommittal grunt, before shoving his phone in Connie’s face. “I mean, what does she even see in him? He’s not that good looking and he has stupid hair. He probably can’t even play that guitar.” 

Connie gives him a sympathetic look, he knows it can’t be easy for Jean to see you with someone else, but it’s been almost three months since you two split. All the same, he’s Jean’s friend, he can’t always tell him what he wants to hear, right? He sets his bowl down with a sigh, bracing himself for what he’s about to say.

“Come on, man. He looks like a decent enough guy. I know this is hard for you, but don’t you want her to be happy?”

“She’s supposed to be happy with me! Me, not this fucker with a guitar, who’s side are you on, anyway?”

“I’m on your side, you know that, but this is nuts, she’s just a chick. You’ve been hung up for almost three months. You need to get back to the shit you used to do. When was the last time you even went to the gym? That used to be so important to you. You should go back, get some endorphins going, that would make you feel better.”

Jean huffs, Connie just doesn’t get it. He gets up off the couch and walks over to the entryway, pushing his shoes on. “She’s not just some chick, dude.” He spits the words out before walking out the door. Maybe a walk would clear his head. He knew in some regards, Connie was right, he hasn’t been taking the best care of himself lately, but his “just a chick” comment has Jean seeing red and he can’t focus on any of the other rational things Connie’s said.

He walks and walks until it gets dark outside, when he finally gets home he scarfs down a protein bar and flops down in bed. Closing his eyes and drifting off relatively quickly, worn out from the walk, maybe he should go back to the gym, he thinks, if a walk has worn him out so much. He doesn’t know how long he sleeps for, but the buzzing from his night table lulls him out of sleep. Bleary eyed and groggy, he picks up the phone staring at the screen. He must be seeing things. Or he’s still asleep and this is a dream. He sits up abruptly, rubbing his eyes, looking at the screen again. Sure enough, it’s your name that’s up on the screen, the phone is still buzzing in his hand as he stares at the caller id. It finally hits him that if he doesn’t answer it’ll go to voicemail and you might not call back. He fumbles to swipe his finger over the answer key, almost dropping his phone in the process.

“Hello?” Jean tries to make his voice sound calm and not rushed, despite the fact that his heart is practically beating out of his chest over something as simple as a phone call, at the prospect of actually hearing your voice for the first time in months.

“Hey, uh, it’s me. Well, duh, you probably know that.” Your voice sounds just as angelic as he remembers and part of him thinks he might cry right on the spot. “um, listen, I didn’t know who else to call, I-I know it’s late.”

“No, no, I’m uh, I’m awake. Wha-what’s up?” He hates how nervous he sounds, but he can’t help it, even his hands are shaking. 

“Can you come over? There’s like, a leak in my apartment, and the office is closed, I just don’t want to lose my deposit. I’m sure they’ll find some way to blame it on me and not their shitty plumbing. I mean.. Obviously, if you’re busy, it’s okay, I can figure something else out.”

So, you’re calling him to come help you, not Eren, interesting. Jean feels over the moon, maybe Eren isn’t all he’s cracked up to be after all. 

“No, I’m not busy, it’s fine. I’ll be there in twenty minutes. Just try to soak up all the water you can.” Jean says as he scrambles off his bed, going to the bathroom to check his hair in the mirror, smoothing some parts that got ruffled in his sleep. He looks at his shirt, cursing silently that he’s still wearing this sweaty t-shirt. He puts you on speaker and quickly pulls the fabric off, throwing it in the hamper.

“Thank you so much, you’re really doing me a huge favor.”

He pulls a fresh shirt over his head, the shirt getting caught in his frantic movements causing him to have to talk louder than normal, so you can hear him over the muffle of the fabric, “yeah, it’s no problem, I’ll be there soon.” He’d do you a million favors if it meant he got to see you. You hang up and he slips on his shoes, rushing out the door to get to your place with his tools.

Jean’s heart is hammering out of his chest the whole drive to your place, it feels like his body is vibrating with anxiety. He’s practically white knuckling his steering wheel, his brain just going and going. He finally gets to see you, he’ll get to see you. He hopes you’re wearing his favorite pair of sweats. He always thought you looked so cute in them, so comfy and cozy. Excitement is starting to bubble in, until he thinks, oh, god. What if he’s there? What if Jean has to see you and Eren together in person, in a situation where he can’t just walk away. Oh, fuck, why didn’t he think about this before? He was just so excited to hear your voice, to see you, that he wasn’t thinking. If he has to see this idiot touch you right in front of him he thinks he might punch him. That would not look good on him, you’d probably even get mad at him, that’s the last thing he needs. He pulls up to your apartment before he knows it, punching in the gate code that he still has memorized, begging and praying to whatever good karma he’s drummed up in the universe, that Eren fucking Jaegar is not in your apartment with you.

He knocks on your door, fussing with his hair a little as he bounces on the balls of his feet, unsure what to do with all this nervous energy. When he hears the lock disengage he pulls his hand away from his hair as fast as he can, trying to look as casual as possible, like he hasn’t thought about you every second of every day for the past three months.

“H-hi,” you answer the door, obviously feeling a little uncomfortable with this whole situation yourself, but he doesn’t know if it’s the same kind of nerves he’s having or something else. But fuck, you look so pretty, so so pretty, with your hair draped over your shoulders in loose waves, the way you always wore it before, wearing a crew neck and some shorts. 

“He-” Jean’s voice cracks, it fucking cracks. Seriously? What, is he sixteen again? He clears his throat and starts again, “Hey,” 

You let him in, and he gets enveloped in your smell, he practically sighs as he breathes in the familiar comfortable scent of you and your things. He didn’t know you could miss a person’s smell this much. He looks around expecting to see the place how he remembers, but he’s thrown off when everything looks different. You’ve rearranged all your furniture. Thankfully, though, you’re the only one here, there’s no sign of another guy having been here at all. He lets out a little sigh of relief, following you into the kitchen where sopping towels are littering the floor. 

“I just came home from work and found it like this. I don't know what happened.” you say, waving your arm to the floor.

“Well, let’s just see. I’m sure it’s just a loose rivet or something,” Jean walks past you, trying his best not to let your proximity as he does get to him, fighting the urge to just take you in his arms and not let go. That’s not why he’s here, you didn’t call him for that. He’s thankful that you called him for an actual task, something for him to focus on so he’s not just staring at you, he’s afraid if he stares too long he’ll snap.

You stand in the kitchen with him while he patches everything up, it’s an easy fix, just like he thought. A baby with a wrench could fix this, so again, his mind drifts back to why you called him and not Eren, not that he’s complaining. He thinks it all feels very domestic, you watching him fix up things around the house. He’d fix everything you asked him too if he could hold onto this feeling. He’s surprised when you crouch down next to him, trying to see what he’s doing.

“It was loose, right here, I’m just tightening it up.” He smiles as he looks at you briefly, he can’t help it, you just look so pretty and you’re right next to him, right where you belong. 

You smile back at him and he feels his heart lurch again, turning the wrench a little more, satisfied with his work, he catches your eye, “and that should do it, you should be all set now.” 

He stands up, wiping his hands on his pants before offering you a hand up. When you take his hand he bites back a smile at the feel of your hand in his again after so much time, even if it is a harmless interaction. Standing up with him, you don’t pull your hand away right away, lingering there for just a second too long. Did he imagine that? No, no you definitely lingered. 

You brush a strand of hair behind your ear and smile at him sheepishly. “Thanks again, I really appreciate it.” God, your smile is the prettiest thing he’s ever seen.

“It’s not a problem, I don’t mind helping you.” Jean runs a hand through his hair, rubbing at the back of his neck, looking away from you, still nervous. He knows the whole reason he came is taken care of now, and he doesn’t want to leave, but he thinks that’s what you might want. 

“So, I should–”

“Do you want–”

You both speak at once, sharing a nervous chuckle. Jean lets you go first, giving you a look that says so.

“Do you, um.. Want a drink?” You look nervous, awkward. Surely he’s imagining it, he doesn't want to get his hopes up too high. “It’s the least I could do, calling you over here on a Friday night. I’m sure you had better things to do.” You give him another shy smile and he swears he could melt into a puddle right there.

“Uh, sure. Y-yeah, a drink sounds good.” 

“All I have are those hard seltzers I usually get, that okay?” you ask like you expect him to remember, and he does. He wants you to know how much he remembers about you; everything, he remembers everything. 

So, just drinks for yourself? No beer, no liquor, nothing he thinks a guy like Eren might drink. Interesting. So far, everything he’s observed has led him to the conclusion that maybe you and Eren aren’t together. Maybe Sasha was right, and the two of you are just friends?

“That’s fine,” He bends down, putting his wrench away, placing his tool bag on your counter. Turning back to look at you, the slim can in your hand as you hold it out to him. He takes it, following you over to the couch where you both take a seat next to each other. 

His body feels like it’s vibrating, sitting this close to you. You didn’t have to sit this close, but you did. He pops the tab, taking a drink to calm his nerves, and you do the same. 

“So, how have you been? It’s been a while.” You speak so softly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear again, a nervous habit. Are you feeling the same tension he is? Is he making it all up because he missed you so much?

“Uh, good, good.” He lies, what is he supposed to say? That he’s been completely miserable without you? No, if he’s wrong and you have moved on, he has to at least pretend he’s been doing alright. “Work is, well, work, you know. Haven’t been doing much else. What about you?”

“Y-yeah, no, things are, um, they’re okay. I finally got promoted at work.” you smile at him again, before taking another sip. “I’m officially management.”

Pride swells in his chest, he knows how badly you wanted to move up in your job, how much you craved more responsibility. He’s glad your place of work is finally acknowledging your potential.

“Hey, that’s great. I’m really happy for you,” and he is, genuinely. “Is it everything you wanted it to be?”

You give a little snort, “I mean, I guess. Workplace drama is a lot more stressful when you’re actually the one in charge of trying to defuse it, instead of just listening to all the gossip.” 

“Well, I’m sure you’re handling it fine, you were always good at that kind of stuff.” 

You huff a little laugh again, thanking him before pulling the sleeves of your crew neck up while adjusting your position on the couch. That’s when he sees it, that little glimmer of silver on your wrist. His heart pounds harder as he sees it. You’re still wearing your bracelet. You still have it. 

“You’re still wearing that,” Jean points out, his voice coming out little more than a whisper, like he just can’t believe it, his eyes locked on the bracelet.

A blush blooms across your cheeks and Jean is positive it’s not just the alcohol. Fuck not getting his hopes up, you wouldn’t still be wearing something he got you if you didn’t miss him a little bit. 

“Oh, yeah..” you fiddle with the bracelet with your free hand, “I um.. I feel a little naked without it, you know?” you cheeks are still flushed as you look up at him. 

Jean just smiles at you, “yeah, I know what you mean.” he says as he pulls the chain out from under his shirt. “I got so used to wearing it everyday, it just doesn’t feel right with it off.” It’s not even a lie, just, not a full truth. His nerves are slowly fading away, getting replaced with renewed hope.

“Well, it does still look good on you,” you reach your hand up to run your fingers along the chain, Jean feels a jolt of electricity in your touch that practically lights his skin on fire, and that’s when he really knows. There’s no way you’d be touching him like this if you didn’t miss him, if you were seeing someone else. He’s never felt so much relief in his life. “Suits you, for sure.” 

He takes his hand placing it over yours, goosebumps prickling his skin where your fingers dance along the chain. “You..um, you have good taste,” he says, his breath turning a little shallow, he knows he’s not imagining all the tension that’s been slowly building up since he got here. “I never would have picked anything like this for myself.”

Your hand is so small in his, he’s always been bigger than you, taller, more muscular. He didn't realize how much he missed it until now, he was so caught up with missing all the other parts of you that this bit seemed to have slipped his mind. You’re looking at him with your pretty doe eyes, letting him hold your hand, he can practically see the hearts in your eyes, looking at him like you used to. Fuck it, he’s going for it. Drinks completely forgotten on the coffee table as he scoots a little closer to you, just enough so that your knees are touching.

“I’ve really missed you.” He whispers, leaning in just a little closer, he hears your breath hitch in your throat, your eyes flitting to his lips. 

He smiles as you lean in too. You want it just as much as he does. “Me too..”

When he finally presses his lips to yours he almost explodes with happiness, he’s feeling giddy, all these pent up feelings pouring out into your lips. He cups the back of your neck as he deepens the kiss, swiping his tongue over your bottom lip, a silent request for permission. He sighs as you grant it, opening your mouth for him so he can glide his tongue along yours, and you moan into his mouth. You fucking moan. He loses any semblance of control he had. His hands move, roaming over your back and the two of you lose yourselves in the moment. Without really thinking about it he pulls you onto his lap, moving his mouth to press hot kisses to your neck, nipping the sensitive skin. It always was one of your favorite spots. His hands run under your sweatshirt, caressing your back, savoring the feel of your soft skin under his palms.

“Missed you so fucking much.” Jean breathes out between kisses, groaning as you grind your hips onto his lap when he kisses your neck again.

“Missed you too. Thought…Thought about you all the time…” Your words are broken up by little gasps. Jean thinks he could die happy, just like this, but then your hands go to the hem of his shirt, pulling it off, running your hands over the contours of his chest and he feels like he’s going to burn out of his skin.

His hands follow suit with yours, pulling your sweatshirt off, discarding it on the floor next to his, drinking in the sight of you, sighing when he sees your bare chest. Running his hands over your tits, kissing his way down your neck and your collarbone before taking one of your nipples into his mouth and starts kissing and sucking, pinching at the other one with his free hand. You arch your back into his touch and he moves his hands back around your waist, pulling you closer to him. He just needs you closer, so much closer.

You just grind against him, he can feel the heat coming off of you, listening to your breath get more and more ragged as you wrap your arms around his neck in order to get closer, pulling his head up. 

“I’m sorry. Jean, I’m so sorry.. I never should have–” your voice sounds broken, despite the desire and need coursing through the both of you. It breaks his heart to hear you sounding so sad. You don’t even have to explain what you’re apologizing for, he already knows. 

Jean cuts you off with a kiss, running his fingers through your hair, shushing you softly. “It’s okay, it’s okay.��� He soothes, pressing soft kisses between his words. “Later. We’ll talk about it later, yeah?” He pulls back, pressing his forehead to yours, looking in your eyes with all the love he has for you. 

You give him a feeble little nod, kissing him passionately. Your tongues glide together as you taste each other, making up for lost time, and god, does he want to make up for it. With that in mind, his hands move to the plush of your ass, squeezing as you keep your lips on him. As much as he doesn’t want to push you away from him, he needs to touch you. He runs his hands over your bare thighs before hooking his fingers into the waistband of your shorts, pushing you back just enough so he can get the leverage he needs. Tugging them off, you lift your hips to help him. He looks down and sees you clad in lace, one of his favorite pairs. A brief look of surprise as his brain sorts through it. You… you planned for this, at least to some degree. All doubts completely leave his head as a satisfied grin curls on his lips. 

“You wear these just for me, baby?” He murmurs into your ear as he nips at your earlobe, fingers already dancing along the sides of your panties. 

You give him another nod and a breathy little sound that he assumes, if you were able to form the words, would be a confirmation. He pushes the material aside, running a finger through your folds. Shit, you're so fucking wet for him. He’s going to lose his mind. His finger swirls around your clit, eliciting moans and gasps from you. You’re already starting to squirm for him and he doesn’t let up, still swirling little circles with the pad of his finger. 

“J-Jean,” you moan out his name and cling to him, holding his head tightly to your chest. 

“‘M right here, baby, I got you. You gonna be a good girl and cum for me?” 

“Y-yes, yes, yes, fuck!” He feels your legs shaking on him, still moving his hand. God, he missed seeing you like this. 

“That’s it, that’s my girl. That’s my good fuckin’ girl, did so well for me. ” He purrs into your skin, pressing kisses to your neck, giving you a second to catch your breath.

Turns out you don’t even want a breather, your hands moving desperately to his lap, frantically trying to undo his buttons, slipping your hand in and wrapping around his cock. 

“Fuck,” Jean groans under his breath, lifting his hips with you still on his lap, so he can shove his pants down enough for you pull him all the way out.

Your hand pumps him, smearing the precum over his flushed tip, causing him to suck in a sharp breath. You keep working him, your hands are always so soft, twisting your wrist a bit on the way up, squeezing the tip just a little. He loves the way he looks in your hands, your smaller ones making him look even bigger. His eyes catch a little glimmer, and he groans again when he sees you jerking him with your bracelet bouncing on your wrist with your movements. All he can think about is that you’re his, you're his, you're his. That one little accessory tells the whole world. Maybe he’ll replace it with a ring. He leans forward, burying his face in the crook of your neck, taking a shaky breath.

“Shit, you’re makin’ me feel so good, but I don’t… fuck, I don’t want to cum like this.” He pulls back to look in your eyes, seeing nothing but how good you want to make him feel and he doesn’t know what he did to deserve you. 

He pulls your panties to the side again, lifting you up, lining himself up with your entrance and pulls you down onto him. Jean thinks he’s died and gone to heaven. He has never felt anything better than you wrapped around him like this. You both let out audible moans, as you adjust to him. Without any warning, you start bouncing on him. His eyes roll back as he drops his head to the back of the couch. Your bounces are slow, deliberate, he’s sure he’s in heaven.

“You feel so good. Love how full you make me feel.” You murmur, breathy, into his ear, bracing yourself on his shoulders. 

As much as he’d love to just sit here and bask in you riding him, he’s going to cum way too soon if he lets you keep going like this, especially if you keep using that mouth of yours to whisper everything he’s been wanting to hear for the past three months in his ear. He moves his hands back to your ass, grabbing handfuls of you, doing the work for you for another second or two before he wraps his arm around your waist he starts fucking up into you. 

“Missed my pussy so much, baby. She’s mine, yeah? That’s what this means doesn’t it?” He growls, taking your wrist, adorned with your bracelet, showing it to you. “That’s why you never took it off? Been mine this whole time haven’t you?”

Your walls squeeze him, as you hear his words, and he groans again. “All yours, Jean.. al-always yours.”

In all his desperation to get close to you, to get inside of you, he didn’t think your panties would cause a problem, but at this point they’re in his way, they won’t stay to one side. He moves his hand, gripping the flimsy garment, and pulls hard, tearing them.

“Jean!” You protest, looking down at where the two of you are connected.

“I’ll buy you new ones,” He mutters before he picks up his pace, finally able to fuck you the way he wants, slamming his hips up into you. 

You don’t seem to care so much anymore, as your eyes roll back, and you let out a cry. Your arms are wrapped around his neck, moving to bury your face in his neck. And for Jean, right now, that just won’t do, he wants to see you, wants to see your face contorted in pleasure. He brings his hand to the back of your neck, tugging your hair so you’re looking at him. 

“Look at me, baby, wanna see you.” Shit, he already feels close. Not having you for all these months, and finally getting you, getting to see in your face how good he’s making you feel and how much you missed him too. He didn’t think he was going to last long anyway. He brings his lips to yours, kissing you hungrily, all tongues and teeth. 

“Ba-baby, ‘m close,” you whine, eyes glazed over, face scrunched up just the way he likes. 

“Me too, cum with me, yeah?” His hand snakes between you, finding your clit, rubbing circles on it with his thumb.

He feels you clenching around him, cunt pulsing and god he missed this feeling, missed feeling you come apart just for him. You say his name again and again like a prayer and he just can’t hold back anymore. 

“Fuck, baby, I’m shit–” He tries to warn you so you can get off of him, but you just stay put, slamming down on him again and again. He cums hard, painting your insides white. 

Still holding onto you tightly, one hand on your neck and the other around your waist, you both just stay locked in an embrace, panting. Each of your heads are resting on the others shoulders, Jean presses little kisses there while he catches his breath. 

“God, I really did miss you so much.” He whispers into your skin. “And not just this, all of it. I missed all of you.”

“I know, I missed you too. I wanted to call you or text you, or anything. I just…didn’t think you wanted to talk to me.” Your fingers toy with the hair at the nape of his neck and he just savors the moment. 

Neither one of you moves, you just sit there holding each other. You haven’t even gotten off of him yet, his cock going soft inside you, feeling his cum leak out onto his lap, but he couldn’t care less. He just runs his fingertips up and down your back tenderly. 

“You really scared me, you know that?” Jean says when he finally feels like breaking the silence.

You lift your head, giving him a puzzled look. “What do you mean? How did I scare you?”

Jean sighs, it sounds stupid now, in hindsight, thinking that you had moved on. “I thought you were dating that Eren guy. You posted a picture with him and I kind of freaked out.”

It seems like it takes a second for his words to register, because you’re quiet for a moment before you burst into a full fit of laughter. Jean just gives you a pointed look. He doesn’t see what’s so funny about that. You’re laughing so hard you practically roll off of him, landing on your side on the couch, your legs still draped over him. He follows suit, cuddling you when he gets onto his side. 

“What’s so funny?”

You finally stop laughing long enough to answer him. “Eren? EW.” you manage to get out before you start giggling again. “He’s like a brother to me, we grew up together. I haven’t seen him before that post since he left for school. You really thought I was dating Eren??” 

Jean’s cheeks flush, a little pout forming on his face. “What was I supposed to think? He was way too close to you in that picture.”

Your laughter subsides, and you brush some hair out of his face, giving him a soft smile. “He just took me out for the day because I was so sad about you. I felt like I’d made a big mistake, and he just wanted to get my mind off of it for a little while. Besides, even if he wasn’t like a brother, he’s been in love with the same girl from middle school since he was like, twelve years old.”

You look like you have more to say but you’re hesitating. Clearly feeling a little nervous, he just nudges you gently, wanting you to continue.

You take a deep breath before going on, “I am sorry.. I shouldn’t have broken up with you, and for such a stupid reason.”

“What was the reason, exactly?” He asks, he never actually got the full story.

“I just… I liked you too much, things were going too well. I guess I kind of panicked, wondering when the other shoe was going to drop.”

Jean just stares at you, of all the reasons he thought it was, he didn’t think it was this.

“So… you broke up with me, because things were going too well?”

“It sounds stupid when you say it like that!” You bury your face into his chest, hiding your blush. “I said I was sorry.”

“What if there’s no other shoe? What if we’re just good together? Did you think about that?” He asks, no malice or hurt in his voice, just genuine curiosity. He presses a little kiss to the top of your head, trying to soothe you.

“There’s always another shoe.” You mutter, not bothering to lift your head up.

Jean sighs, taking your chin in his hand, pulling you up so that you’re eye to eye with him. “Baby, I promise, I will do everything in my power to ensure that there is no other shoe, okay? You have a problem, just talk to me. Let me be there for you, let me try and make things better. I’m not saying everything will be perfect all the time, but just know I’ll try my damndest for you.” He presses a kiss to your lips, sealing his promise. 

“Yeah.. okay,” you finally give him another smile, and he kisses you again, unable to resist. “So, can I be your girlfriend again?”

“As long as you promise not to break up with me for such a stupid reason ever again.” He smiles at you again, pressing another kiss to your forehead before pulling you back into his chest.

“Promise,” you mumble as you nuzzle into him.

Jean’s happier than he’s been in months, with you in his arms, right back where you belong.

Thank you so much for reading! Likes and Reblogs are always appreciated!💖

[chrissturnsgirlll222]

second, never first

part one | part two | part three | part four

chris x fem!reader

summary - you grew up hating one guy all of high school but suddenly become close friends, but as time goes on feelings develop, only its one sided.

warnings - underage drinking, throwing up, use of y/n, BOYS (no smut… for now lol and yes i am 18) currently not proofread or written with pristine punctuation

word count - 2500+?? (i know its long but i had a bunch of ideas for the beginning)

this is also my first story so pls be kind :) also just wanted to mention that i wouldn’t have the courage to write and post if it werent for other writers on this app so i would just like to tag and thank a few accounts who inspired me to write<3

@lovingmattysposts @flowerxbunnie @strniohoeee @lacysturniolo @strawberrysturniolo @flynnriderishot @stuniolobbg 

~

for as long as i could remember, being the second option was all i knew. just always being the backup, never the go to.

this constant course of events led to my passion of reading and writing, pretty much consuming myself with content or sources that provided me with a sense of belonging, or just putting myself into a different reality.

i always had been drawn to romance. its a un-comforting comfort for me, if that makes sense. i love reading about it and watching movies about it but love just seemed so out of reach. im sure many people feel this way but i just believe there are certain people in the world that just go through life without any sort of romantic experiences. now while that may be true i also think thats just something i made up in my head to comfort myself from the fact that i have never had a single romantic experience, ever. i mean im 17 years old and havent even had my first kiss. hell i havent even held hands with a boy.

that of course all changed during my senior year.

-

“oh my god look at what cody sent me” anna says.

anna is my best friend, though at times she felt like my biggest competition. she is everything im not. constantly talking to boys, what people consider ‘boy pretty’, very out going and popular. the fun one.

i look over at her phone to see a text from one of the many boys shes talked to in the past year “i thought you guys were done?” i say

“yeah were not talking like that anymore but i still talk to him here and there” she says

“i dont know if thats the best idea, i mean if you guys keep talking hes probably going to get the wrong impression”

“your such a buzz kill sometimes” she says slightly annoyed. i stay silent. I might sound like a complete bitch here but when your friend is constantly talking or complaining about guy, a, b and c you eventually get bored and exhausted of hearing about it, I try my hardest to be understanding when she brings up guys, but I’m apparently never supportive enough to her standards. I suppose she wants me to be there and give her advice but what do I have to offer to that conversation?

we were driving through the school parking lot to park in our usual spot next to chris.

chris is, well complicated. ive known him since 7th grade and hated him up until about 3 months ago when senior year started. the friendship started off with him just parking next to my car everyday and him just pestering me all the time but the longer we kept parking together, the more we grew to enjoy our casual conversations.

we both roll down our windows.

“morning” i say waving at him, anna does the same “hey, i wanna skip first block if you guys are down” he says “you know i would never say to to that” anna says “ehh i dont know about today i have a bio project i need to work on and didnt getting the planning sheet so i should probably head in” i say

“alright, anna come on i wanna get mcdonalds” chris says tapping on his passenger seat.

“looks like its just us this morning! y/n me and chris can just go get food and ill bring you back something for lunch” anna says turning to me.

“ill see you guys at lunch” i say grabbing my bag and locking my car doors as anna gets in to chris’ car and they drive off.

if you havent caught the weird passive tone from anna, thats how she was. no matter how much i tried she always had to be the centre of attention . i honestly dont even think she does it on purpose. i love her and she is my best friend but i just find her insufferable at times, its just who she is. chris is a great friend to me but i always caught the vibe that chris liked anna or at least thought she was hot. which is also why i think he treats her with more respect than me.

now when i said we grew to like eachother i left out a slight detail.

even though i hated chris for most of high school for the way he treated me and constantly teased me, i couldnt help myself from starring at him from time to time as he talked or even looking at his hands. not only was he visually pleasing he could be really sweet and the conversations we shared were really meaningful at times. was he attractive, yes. was he a complete asshole to me for years and still hasnt apologized, yes. did i completely fall head over heels for him when he began to show me his nice side, sadly yes.

its so cliche but i fell for my “bully” so to speak. i hated myself for it but what i hated even more was how much i let my feelings for him effect how i saw myself even more as the second option. if it came down to it and me anna and him were the only people in the world he would still fuck anna before he even though about kissing me.

i know that i might only feel this way towards him simply because hes the only male thats shown me any attention at all. though it hasnt always been positive or romantic it was still something that i had never experienced from a male before.

like i said, second option.

-

i finish up my final class and head out to my car and wait for anna who is doing god knows what considering i drive her home everyday after school. while waiting for anna, chris gets into his car and starts it to heat up as it is the beginning of winter. i watch what hes doing through his car window as he scrolls on his phone for a sec and then storms into the backseat of my car, always the backseat.

my head whips around to look at him and he looks annoyed. “why do you look mad” i say. “look at what this bitch said to me” he says leaning up to the middle console shoving his phone in my face and i read texts from a girl hes talking to.

friday 3:14pm

alice: chris i cant keep talking to you

chris: what do you mean

alice: i mean that i cant keep talking to you what were doing is messing with my head and i dont want to be a victim of one of your fuck and dumps

chris: im sure i have many other girls who would kill to be in your position

alice: then go have them i dont want to be apart of your sick and twisted hookups

“ok wow” i say my eyes wide “i didnt even know you were talking to alice”

“well now you do, and im not anymore apparently” he says throwing his arms up as he sinks in to the middle seat. “we have been fucking since the halloween party, remember when i kissed her infront of you?” he says in a duh tone.

ah yes halloween. the night i went home crying after said kiss was shared infront of my face.

“yes i remember” i say blankly.

“we were supposed to hangout tonight but she decided to blow me off, i was ready to get my dick wet but i guess ill just have to be fucking boring alone” he says as i make a disgusted face.

“well i dont know what to te-“ i was cut off by anna coming into the car.

“ok sorry i took so long but i was just getting the details for a party tonight!” she says out of breath. chris sits up at the news, “maybe i will get my dick wet then.” he says smirking and jokingly raising his eyebrows.

“what? alice blew you off already.” anna says turning to chris. i dont bother questioning why anna knew and i didnt because im sure i know answer.

“yep and im scoring tonight.” he says fake punching the air as me and anna giggle.

-

anna and i finished getting ready at her place, her wearing jeans and a hot pink tank top and me in black jeans and a white long sleeve crop top. i stare at myself in the mirror when i hear annas phone go off with a text from chris.

friday 10:27pm

chris: here

“anna! chris is here!” i yell grabbing my phone and my drinks for the night from my bag and start making my way downstairs as i hear her close behind me. i tie up my shoes as i hear her grab her drinks from her fridge and say bye her parents. i wave goodbye to her parents as well and we make our way out to chris’ car.

upon entering were greeted by matt, chris’ brother in the passenger seat.

“hey matt i didnt know you were coming out tonight!” i say smiling at him as loud music blasts from chris’ speakers.

“yeah nicks also going so i just tagged along, plus i need to drive you guys home since chris is drinking tonight.” he says lightly punching chris in the arm. “oh yeah, speaking of nick where is he?” i say. “nicks already there he came with his friends.” i nod in response and sit back starting to chug down one of my drinks. i may be a buzz kill in annas eyes but i knew how to party and loved drinking with my friends.

matt is chris’ triplet brother along with nick. i never really got to know his brothers all that well, i just know that matt has become a lot more comfortable around me and anna as we have started to spend more time with chris.

once we arrive to the party me and anna walk around to see whos there and we meet up with some of our other friends. i can see chris from across the room laughing and talking to nick and matt.

the night goes on and i finish my fourth cooler of the night and head out to the car to grab another. when i step outside the cool air hits me and i instantly regret the 2 shots of tequila i had on top of the fruity coolers i had throughout the night. shivering and rubbing my arms i continue walking to chris’ car to sit down for a sec and when i reach the backseat i see chris’ naked back and steamy windows. i take a step back once i realize whats happening.

i knew he was going to end up fucking someone tonight since thats what he said his plan was but i did not need to fucking see it. hes not mine for the taking obviously, but seeing him constantly with girls just hurt.

i turn around to walk back into the house but suddenly feel sick to my stomach. i hunch over and throw up in the middle of the road. i cough and collapse to my knees continuing to gag as strings of spit come out of my mouth. i hear a car door shut behind me as i try to stand up wiping my mouth. i feel arms grab my waist and pick me up bridal style and thats the last thing i remember before everything went black.

-

i wake up in a car with the same clothes on from the party, still drunk, my hair crispy and the smell of cologne. i look around me and realize its chris’ backseat im laying in but its still pitch black out.

i hear faint voices outside and the door my head is resting on swings open and my head flys back.

“holy shit chris are you trying to kill her” i hear matts voice. “shut up, i didn’t know you put her head there.” chris says as he starts pulling me out of the car.

“chris” i say quietly. “holy shit your awake” he says leaving me to sit up. “yeah i am, what happened. i think i- blacked out.” i say slurring my words.

“well i was in the middle of getting with summer-“ he says getting on his knees to talk to me better “and i just heard gagging outside the car and it was bothering me and i looked outside the car and you were bent over on the middle of the road throwing up. i just grabbed you and told summer to fuck off and put you in the car while i grabbed matt and anna.”

“oh my god” i say as i nod off.

“woah woah stay with us here, chris lets get her inside now” matt says placing my head back up.

“where is anna?” i question.

“we had to drop her home and bring you to our house since she said her parents couldn’t see you like this.”

“of course” i say

classic anna.

“what time is it?” i ask rubbing my eyes.

“2:44am” chris grunts taking me out of the car.

“ok lets get you inside” chris says pulling me up to stand. “you think you can walk inside?” he says still holding me up. “ill try.”

he lets go of me and i slowly make it up to the front of their house but start wobbling once i reach the steps and feel both matt and chris grab either side of me and help me up to the front door. matt holds on to my arm as he uses the house key to get inside and i walk in.

they walk me over to the living room couch and i slump over resting my head on the arm rest of the couch.

“where is she going to sleep?” matt says. “my room obviously.” chris says as i smile to myself.

“come on y/n” he says picking me up again and bringing me to his room to lay on his bed. “im gonna give you clothes to change into since yours are covered in vomit.” he says opening drawers. i nod my head as my eyes close.

he tosses me a big white shirt with some graphic designing on it “can you dress yourself or-“ i cut him off “yea- yeah i got it” i say sitting up right and hiccup.

he turns around so i can change into the shirt. i begin taking my long sleeve off and i get one arm off before i get stuck. “chris, help” i say quietly and he turns around to see me with my arms slouched and my eyes closed. he rushes over “lift up your arms” he says pulling my hands up. i hold them up as he grabs the hem of my shirt and slowly pulls up. i admire chris as he pulls off the shirt completely throwing my shirt across the room all while being careful not to look at me.

he grabs his shirt and places it gently over my head and then threading my arms through the shirt. “wait” he says walking over to his closet, grabbing a pair of his sweatpants and walking over to me with them. i sit there with my eyes closed smiling as i had thought about the scenario of him taking my clothes off many times, just not the me being so drunk i cant dress myself part.

he takes my jeans off and helps me in to his sweatpants still being respectful and not starring at my body. “ill be right back just sit here im going to get you water and an advil.” he say as he walks out of the room. i just sit there, my eyes still closed, still smiling and nod at his sentence.

i lay back down on his bed and wait as i hear him rushing upstairs talking to matt and nick before walking back in to the room sitting down at the end of his bed. “sit snd open up.” i obliged to his words before he places two advils on my tongue.

“im going to fill up your mouth with water so don’t breathe.” he says opening up a water bottle and slowly pouring some in to my mouth while my head tilts upwards slightly. he watches me with concern as i swallow the water.

“please never get drunk like this ever again, you really freaked everyone out kid.” he says. i don’t respond and nod at his words.

kid, the all too familiar nickname chris gave me. it always made me feel weird when he called me this as if he was an authority figure or something.

i lay back down on his bed and close my eyes and quickly drift off to sleep. the last thing i remember from that night is him crawling in to his bed next to me and turning off his light.

“goodnight kid”

-

thank you for reading!!!

[burningvelvet]

a post in honor of lord byron's 200th death anniversary —

the greeks were very fond of byron, who when he died in 1824 was a military commander and notable influence in their war of independence. as one of the most (if not the most) famous members of the philhellenist movement, byron used his poetic platform to try to remind people of greece's reputation as the source of western traditions in art and culture. the greeks then honored byron by decorating his coffin with a laurel wreath (below). they also erected statues for him, like this one below in athens depicting him being crowned with a laurel wreath (a symbol of greatness, especially in poetry/music [which historically overlapped]) by a female personification of greece. to this day, some statues of byron are annually wreathed in tradition, and the names byron/vyron/vyronas are still used in greece for roads, towns, and people in his honor.

"’Tis sweet to win, no matter how, one’s laurels,

By blood or ink; ’tis sweet to put an end

To strife; ’tis sometimes sweet to have our quarrels,

Particularly with a tiresome friend:

Sweet is old wine in bottles, ale in barrels;

Dear is the helpless creature we defend

Against the world; and dear the schoolboy spot

We ne’er forget, though there we are forgot.

But sweeter still than this, than these, than all,

Is first and passionate love — it stands alone,

Like Adam’s recollection of his fall;

The tree of knowledge has been pluck’d — all ’s known —

And life yields nothing further to recall

Worthy of this ambrosial sin, so shown,

No doubt in fable, as the unforgiven

Fire which Prometheus filch’d for us from heaven."

— excerpt from Lord Byron's Don Juan, Canto the First (writ 1818, pub. 1819).

"The mountains look on Marathon –

And Marathon looks on the sea;

And musing there an hour alone,

I dreamed that Greece might still be free;

For standing on the Persians' grave,

I could not deem myself a slave."

— excerpt from Lord Byron's Don Juan, Canto the Third (writ 1819, pub 1821) — this stanza is part of a section often published on its own under the title "The Isles of Greece."

"Byron was at once a romantic dreamer, who wanted life to square up to his illusions, and a satirical realist, who saw what was before him with unusual clarity and found its contradictoriness amusing. The clash between the two Byrons is nowhere more noticeable than in his last writings, done on Cephalonia and at Missolonghi during the months before his death. There we see the Greece he dreams of, and the Greece which, in different ways, destroys him."

— excerpt from Peter Cochran's "Byron's Writings in Greece, 1823-4."

"Oh, talk not to me of a name great in story;

The days of our youth are the days of our glory;

And the myrtle and ivy of sweet two and twenty

Are worth all your laurels, though ever so plenty.

What are garlands and crowns to the brow that is wrinkled?

'Tis but as a dead-flower with May-dew besprinkled.

Then away with all such from the head that is hoary!

What care I for the wreaths that can only give glory!

Oh FAME! - if I e'er took delight in thy praises,

'Twas less for the sake of thy high-sounding phrases,

Than to see the bright eyes of the dear one discover,

She thought that I was not unworthy to love her.

There chiefly I sought thee, there only I found thee;

Her glance was the best of the rays that surround thee;

When it sparkled o'er aught that was bright in my story,

I knew it was love, and I felt it was glory."

— Lord Byron's "Stanzas Written on the Road Between Florence and Pisa" (November, 1821). What is illustrated here, and what I try to illustrate all throughout this assortment, is Byron's conflation of love and glory, and the idea that poetry and politics are both ways to deserve and achieve — not fame, but what fame seems to promise — love.

"But 'tis not thus—and 'tis not here

Such thoughts should shake my Soul, nor now,

Where Glory decks the hero's bier,

Or binds his brow.

The Sword, the Banner, and the Field,

Glory and Greece around us see!

The Spartan borne upon his shield

Was not more free.

Awake (not Greece—she is awake!)

Awake, my Spirit! Think through whom

Thy life-blood tracks its parent lake

And then strike home!"

— excerpt from Lord Byron's "On This Day I Complete My Thirty-Sxith Year" (1824).

"What are to me those honours and renown

Past or to come, a new-born people's cry

Albeit for such I could despise a crown

Of aught save Laurel, or for such could die;

I am the fool of passion, and a frown

Of thine to me is as an Adder's eye

To the poor bird whose pinion fluttering down

Wafts unto death the breast it bore so high –

Such is this maddening fascination grown –

So strong thy Magic - or so weak am I."

— although the much more popular and published "On This Day I Complete My Thirty-Sxith Year" is often believed to be Byron's last poem, the above is likely Byron's actual last poem. Like the former, it wasn't solely written for Greece, but for his page Lukas Chalandritsanos who he was in unrequited love (or lust) with. It is sometimes titled "Last Words on Greece" (named so by his friend and sometimes-editor Hobhouse).

[natt-writes]

~5 Writing tips that actually help~

(These tips are meant for fiction books, especially fantasy. so if you’re writing nonfiction a decent amount of these won’t apply to you. Sorry!)

Find your writing voice.

one of the biggest issues I find in things written by beginners is a lack of emotional connection with the narration. Sure the story can be great, but without personality, without looks into the characters minds, without little quips here and there, it really isn’t all that interesting. Something that really helped me to realize this was a book called the tragical tale of birdie bloom. It’s a kids book but it honestly has such a good narrator (and storyline tbh) that you can look past the little kiddy-ness. I recommend you check the book out if you’re looking for some inspiration. I will be making a post about how to develop your writing and character voices soon so if you want some extra help with that, stay tuned!

2. Get to know your characters.

I know that you all probably already know this, but characters are one of, if not the most important part of a book. Readers don’t want to read about a flat, boring character who just feels like a vessel for the horrifying amount of trauma you add to your story. They want to read about people that feel real, people with flaws and feelings and hobbies and backstories. When I wanted to develop my characters I started going through the drafts, the plot outlines, everything and seeing what the characters did, said, felt. Then I took their basic backstory and started lining things up. Like if a character decided to get into a fight with another character, I would see what had happened to them that might have caused this. Maybe they had been abused as a child and thought that any disagreement meant they had to fight for their life. Maybe this person reminded them of a former enemy. After you start to figure out what connects the characters to the big plot points, you can then start to develop subtle things. You could start writing something, realize this situation would have triggered a character, and then drop subtle hints towards them feeling uncomfortable. Go nuts with it, after all you can never over-analyze a character.

3. Describe things uniquely.

Descriptions are what help us to understand what’s going on in a scene. They can tell us about the tasty drink a character is enjoying, the slick dress that someone is wearing or the way a characters muscles tense when a certain someone enters the room. But sometimes descriptions a fall a bit flat and that can ruin the experience for the reader. Something I always try to remember is to try and come up with new words describe something, for example; “her eyes were a beautiful shade of brown.” Is a very basic and over used description, instead you could try; “her eyes sparkled as she sat across from me, gleaming a rich chocolate shade as the light from the candles reflected off of them”. This is a much stronger sentence as it gives both environment hits and a description of the eyes, all while staying away from overused terms. I often see this theme in stories written by beginners, things being described in a very straight forward manner. And of course this is ok once in a while, especially if this isn’t a very important topic, but it still sounds better when you branch away from that basic sentence structure. I always like to use descriptive sentences to push things forward. Here is another example; “she was wearing a fluffy green dress with lots of lace. She walked over to the door and opened it.” Vs “the lacy trim of her green dress dragged on the floor as she walked towards the door. She smiled wide as she held it open, inviting her guests into the building.” Making strong sentences is very important, so please toy around with different words, structures, etc, until the sentence fits the type of book you’re trying to write.

4. Make trauma realistic.

Yes, even if you’re writing a fantasy book, characters experiences have to be realistic. Something that always gets on my nerves is when writers come up with a good idea for some trauma, so they just give to a character, even when it doesn’t suit them at all. if you are going to give a character trauma you need to explain it, set it up so it actually fits into their character arc, then have the character actually be affected by it. They can’t just randomly be like “I got shot by a dude.” And that’s it if there is no way that character could have gotten shot given their life experiences. Also if you want a character to be relatively unaffected after an extremely traumatic event you have to plan it out so that they have a specific and consistent trauma response that makes them not react shortly after an event like that. Characters are supposed to be like people, and no two people react to trauma the same way, so you do have some leeway if necessary, but people also don’t just stay the same after something horrible happens, they are affected by it and that has to be accurately portrayed. This does get easier the more you get to know the characters though, as soon you will know how they react to things and how to plan trauma that suits them.

5. Make a plot outline.

I cannot stress this enough, make a plot outline. Making a plot outline literally saved my book, and they are really easy to make! I recommend you download a spreadsheet app like XL spreadsheets or Apple numbers but you could even use google docs if you want. You want to put in all the chapters and then give each chapter at least six spots to write scenes. Add a spot for adding the main event of the chapter/a summery of what you have to write. This will help you to understand what you have to write for that chapter and how it fits into the next chapter. After that you start to fill all the scene boxes in with your plot information. Having a plot outline is great as it can be super vague and messy, but still hold all your ideas. It also helps to prevent unnecessary rewrites later, as you can just edit the plot outline before you start writing the first draft. You can even make a plot outline after you’ve started writing your book. That’s what I did and I promise, it still is very helpful. (Example of a plot outline below.)

[lakesbian]

it's the moment like 4 of you have been waiting for:

i finally rotated pact creature design in my brain enough to post about it. to all the people who sent me asks wanting to hear my thoughts explaining Why Pact Creatures Are So Good this ones for you.

the core of pact's monster design boils down to one very good fact about pact's worldbuilding: in the world of pact, the universe canonically loves a good story. magic literally runs on themes and ideas. subsequently, strong themes aren't the end result of pact's monster design so much as they are the most fundamental aspect of it--meaningful themes and narratives are such a textually important part of how pact monsters work that one bogeyman outright tries to start a conversation with blake by, upon noticing the birdhouse in his soul (tm), asking if birds are important to him.

what really seals the deal on this being fascinating is that pact monsters aren't invented wholesale--a lot of the book hinges on offering its own explanations for preexisting folklore or urban legend. pact takes a variety of common threads in the way cultural myths & monsters are presented, picks out the conceptions with compelling implications, and distills them into one design so thematically coherent and clarifying that it makes you go "ohhh, why aren't All ghosts/dragons/fae like this? this is Exactly What They're Supposed To Be."

like, we all know that ghosts are dead people, and oftentimes the appearance and/or behavior they're written as having is either implicitly or explicitly based on reenactments of their past life/how they died, and sometimes they're depicted as lucid but more often than not they're depicted more like broken or warped remnants of a person, and sometimes they make things colder/give off Bad Emotional Vibes/etc. those are generally true assertions about how ghosts are often culturally presented.

pact takes that and explicitly declares that ghosts are what happens when something so bad happens that an imprint of the resultant misery is left on the fabric of the universe. some ghosts appear horrifying because their appearance is warped and exaggerated beyond what's realistically possible to match how awful whatever happened to them felt. some ghosts are more lucid because their imprint is more recent, or has been strengthened and fed by human attention instead of left to decay. some ghosts are less lucid because they were forgotten. when ghosts make the atmosphere feel awful to be in, that's because the ghost isn't just the imprint of the person, it's an imprint of the awful thing itself. incredibly interesting! it feels so very much like the absolute heart of what ghost stories are about--about the grief and horror of being impacted by the ever-present echo of something terrible, about something so viscerally wretched happening that reality itself cannot forget it, about the emotionally powerful interactions between someone still-living and the memory of someone already long gone.

(pact also gives an aside that, in very rare scenarios, neutral or arguably even positive occasions which leave a sufficiently strong enough impression can also become ghosts. genuinely fascinating expansion.)

& the thing here is that pact does this for creatures like ghosts that are already richly thematic and iconic, but it Also does it for creatures with less obvious theming. how do dragons work? what's pact's underlying explanation for their position as immortal, powerful, regal, fire-breathing* fantasy monsters?

*&, depending on the media, sometimes ice-breathing or poisonous or whatever else

well, you see, dragons are recursive loops. "dragons are recursive loops" is perhaps one of the Top All Time sentences in the entire book, and the delightful thing is that, in addition to sounding excellent, it makes sense.

that's how they generate and spit out so much of whatever their element is. they're snarls. they're ouroboroses. they're something feeding into itself, self-sustaining for thousands of years, drowning anything which threatens it in torrents of whatever the self-feeding element is--fire, sometimes, but it could be poison, or ice, or whatever else, and that's why you've probably heard of ice dragons in addition to classic fire dragons. Dragons Are Recursive Loops. recursiveness is, after all, a form of immortality.

or, like, fae? we all know that faeries are incomprehensibly old/outright immortal Tricky Little Bitches who like to manipulate people while posing in an inhumanly/horrifically beautiful fashion and going "teehee." pact takes that to a fantastically surreal level of extreme artifice, one that's almost grotesque in its dreamlike nature--they have all lived for so very long that, to them, boredom is worse than death, and so they have complicated social games spanning centuries, and speak in the most practiced of misleading wordplay, and perfectly curate their forests so that even the smallest pebble is an intentionally-chosen setpiece for their play. they graduated from handjobs a couple dozens of millennia ago--now they're more into erotic-poetic descriptions of full-body degloving. you will not notice when a faerie steals and replaces your child, because you are very young and stupid compared to them, and playing-pretend at being your child is only the briefest of trifles in their unfathomably long lifespan.

the other good bit is that pact explicitly acknowledges that faeries run on what is colloquially deemed Bullshit--the universe likes a good story, and faeries have gotten very good at telling it a moving story. if a faerie tells a good enough story about having a sword that breaks the laws of physics, then that is what their sword will do. and so the way to combat faeries is not to out-bullshit them--because no one is out-bullshitting a being with thousands of years of bullshitting practice--but to say "no, that's fucking stupid and made up" until their implausibly long sword acts like a sword of that size actually should and shatters on the spot.

& all of these writing decisions feel so naturally truthful to what these creatures are Supposed to be--they're really not wholly new takes, they're a presentation of preexisting ideas in a way that gets why those ideas appeal to people and goes full-throttle on all the most thematically rich or otherwise narratively interesting parts. It's Good Writing. I Like It. you could spend an entire essay breaking down the presentation of literally any single one of pact's creatures, it's that compelling in its reflection and organization of Ideas About Creatures.

[jadequeen88]

Nothing Compares: Dad!Eddie Munson x Reader

Cross-posted on AO3

Read part 2 here Summary:

The thin walls of your apartment rattled with the slamming of your front door. You jumped awake in fear, knowing you were supposed to be alone tonight. After your initial panic, you knew by the sound of the heavy footsteps and quiet cursing exactly who was terrorizing your home at 2:45 in the morning.

Eddie Munson.

--------------

Having a kid can change people, but not always for the better...

Notes:

I wrote this faster than ANYTHING I've ever written before, so if there are any mistakes, I apologize! I wanted to try my take on Eddie becoming a dad. Although I think he means well and would be a great dad, I could see it being a hard transition for him. As always, please let me know what you guys think. Hopefully, I will be adding more chapters to The Last In Line soon! I also have a couple of more WIPs in google docs that I'm very excited about. Looking forward to all your comments! ALSO! There will definitely be a part 2 to this!

TWs:

Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Breaking Up & Making Up, Soft Eddie Munson, Dad Eddie Munson, Oral Sex, Making Out

The thin walls of your apartment rattled with the slamming of your front door. You jumped awake in fear, knowing you were supposed to be alone tonight. After your initial panic, you knew by the sound of the heavy footsteps and quiet cursing exactly who was terrorizing your home at 2:45 in the morning.

Eddie Munson.

The specter who never seemed to stop haunting you, no matter how many times you tried to exercise him from your life. Maybe those assholes back in high school were onto something calling him the spawn of satan. It’s one of the only reasons you can come up with at this point. You knew it would be best to go ahead and wake up. The longer he spent ransacking your apartment, the more riled up he’d get and the longer it would take to calm him down.

You pull your robe around yourself and slip into the hallway, wincing slightly at the cold wood beneath your feet.

“Where is he?”

You grimaced. Eddie had clearly gotten wasted after the show tonight. He stood in the middle of your living room, cropped tee still damp around the neck with sweat and eyeliner skewed. You hated how your gut lurched with want at the sight.

“Who, Eddie?”

“Who?” he looked at you with that infuriating expression he wore when he was exceptionally worked up. You wanted to slap him and kiss the breath out of his lungs in apology at the same time. “My fuckin’ son, that’s who!” His eyes are wild and he’s nearly screaming. If his fit resulted in old Ms. Connor calling Jim Hopper again, you’d string him up from a light pole.

“Eddie, I told you Sunday at drop-off that Wayne wanted to keep him tonight. He took him fishing this afternoon and now he’s sleeping over.” you walked a little closer trying to school your features. You knew if the rage you felt bubbled over with Eddie in this state, you’d have to call Jim yourself to haul you and your ex to the station.

“Did not. I would have remembered,” He mumbled, still walking around opening closets and doors.

“I can’t do this tonight,” you sighed. Your hands started to shake.

“Oh, you can’t do this tonight? Huh? And why is that? Got your little pencil dick boyfriend hiding back here?” Eddie stomped towards the bedroom you used to share, hell-bent on catching you in a lie you’d never told.

“Eddie, you know I don’t have one!” Maybe you should save yourself the trouble and call Jim at home. Sadly, it wouldn’t be the first time you had to disturb the Byers-Hopper household in the middle of the night.

“Stop fuckin’ lyin’ to me, Birdy,” the old nickname sent pain through your chest. Sometimes, you wished for a quick slap instead of these painful exchanges. At least the sting from a blow would fade instead of crawling inside your body and festering like Eddie’s words had a habit of doing. “You went on a date with him last weekend.”

“One date, Eddie!” your voice pitched higher as he threw open your closet. He slammed the door to the ensuite bathroom against the opposite wall before looking under your bed. “I never called him back!”

“Oh, dear! Why ever not?” Once Eddie was satisfied that you weren’t hiding a man in your apartment, all his attention focused on you. His arms crossed over his chest, head cocked to the side, waiting on a response.

“You know why not,” you blinked rapidly, refusing to give him any more of your tears.

“Tell me,” he demanded softly, walking towards you. He was close enough now that you smelled the vodka seeping from his pores. How long had he been drinking tonight? You watched his arm rise, standing still as a statue as he reached out towards you. His ringed hand sat heavily on your neck. Eddie bent forward, trying to meet your downturned gaze. The thick callous of his thumb felt like fire against the underside of your jaw. You knew if you looked into his eyes, your resolve would shatter. You used to joke with Eddie about how his puppy dog eyes were his superpower. If only you knew then that they’d be used against you one day…

“Birdy…” you could hear the tears in his voice. You couldn’t take this anymore.

“Stop calling me that, please,” you wished you’d yelled it. You wished you’d have sounded strong and determined. You wished you could shove him away and scream at him. But you were just too fucking tired. Instead, your plea came out a watery, weak whisper.

“Don’t want to,” he whispered, now both hands cupping the side of your neck. His forehead fell down to connect to yours, and you squeezed your eyes shut. “I miss you so goddamn much. You know that?” he sniffed back tears and your own finally fell from your eyes.

“You’re just drunk, Eds,” your hands came up to his chest to push him away, but only lingered there, digging into his sweaty shirt. “You only miss me when your drunk.”

You felt him shake his head and grip your neck tighter. “Miss you all the time. Just too scared to say it sober,” his words slur even worse through his tears. “You know I’m a fuckin’ coward, baby.”

His wrists felt so solid beneath your hands. The sick, sad, lonely part of your soul rejoiced at the sensation, of him touching you and you touching back. Reluctantly, you pulled his hands away and turned to sit on the foot of your bed, openly weeping now.

You remember sitting in the same spot the night you kicked him out last year. Eddie still behaved like a child while you had a toddler of your own to think about. All the hours away at band practice, the drinking, him dealing even after you said you didn’t want that around your baby. The straw that broke the camel’s back was finding the blonde in his lap at a party you tracked him down to. You’d been up all night with a sick toddler, not knowing where on earth your husband was. Thank God his saint of an uncle was around to watch the baby while you combed through the dark streets of Hawkins looking for Eddie. Of course, he’d been at that asshole Billy’s place…

You remember the sick smirk Billy Hargrove leveled you with, ice blue eyes looking at you up and down shamelessly. He gleefully pointed to where Eddie sat, girl in lap, drunk out of his mind.

“You know,” he’d reached his arm around your waist and purred into your ear. “If you really wanna get under his skin, I’d love to help you out with that, mama.”

You shoved him away, vibrating with fury. “Fuck you, Billy.” you stomped across the room as he responded with a, “Yeah, that’s the point I was makin’, sweetheart!”

Eddie looked up at you in shock, pushing the girl away roughly.

“Fuck you, Eddie Munson. I’m done,” you wrenched off the thin, gold band he’d given you the day he proposed to you under the tree you’d played under when you were both just two poor trailer park kids. You didn’t care to hear his excuses. You didn’t care that he swore he’d never cheated, that he was so drunk that he didn’t even realize a girl was on his lap. You saw the writing on the wall. You knew it would only be a matter of time before his desire to play rockstar would destroy your already fragile little family.

So you kicked him out that night. Since then, you’d raised your son mostly on your own with help from Robin, Steve, and sweet Uncle Wayne. You never kept Eddie from his child, he was an excellent dad when he wasn’t in his own head, but Wayne usually handled the drop-off and pick-up times. You could tell it hurt him to see his nephew potentially becoming like his father. He always promised his uncle that he wouldn’t become his father. Wayne stepped in when the crime and alcohol took a front seat in his life, rasing Eddie as his own. Nowadays, Wayne wasn’t too sure his nephew would keep his word.

After a few months, however, the drunken visits started. At first, your resolve was solid. You were determined to keep Eddie’s shit out of your life and out of your son’s life. But the loneliness and heartache got a little more prominent with each fight. Going on that date last week solidified it… You still loved Eddie. That wouldn’t change, no matter the time or distance.

Eddie hadn’t seen you cry since the night you ended things. You made sure of it. You knew that once he cracked you the slightest bit, there’d be a very real danger of him making his way back into your life. It was a gamble you didn’t want to take.

But tonight, the dam burst. Eddie dropped to his knees in front of you, lying his head in your lap.

“Don’t cry, Birdy. You’re killin’ me,” his hands rubbed up and down the sides of your thighs to comfort you. “Tell me why you didn’t call him back. Please, baby. Just say it,” you sobbed as you pushed his curls away from his face. You still couldn’t look at him, but you felt his gaze on you. “I gotta know you still love me, Birdy. I gotta know because sometimes I think I might die ‘cause I love you so much.”

“Eddie, stop,” you gripped his hair as you felt him nuzzle his tear-soaked face into your stomach.

“No, goddammit! I won’t! You gotta listen this time,” you softened when you felt his arms wrap around your waist. “I know I’m fuckin’ stupid, okay? I know I fucked up a lot, but I never ever cheated. I never could. I can’t live with myself anymore knowing you think I did something like that.”

“There’s so much more to it,” you finally opened your eyes, looking towards the ceiling to gather your thoughts. “The drugs and the constant partying… Eddie you know I love all the guys, and I love you being in the band, but you can’t find a balance between all of that and being present for us as a dad and partner.”

“Birdy, I will! I swear on my mom’s grave, I will do better!” at the mention of his mother, you finally looked at him. He never talked about her unless he was deadly serious. You wiped his black tears away from his cheek, still avoiding his eyes. “I wanted to tell you earlier, call you before the show, but I got all fucked up in here and couldn’t,” Eddie pointed to his head to emphasize his point. “Gene hired me back at the shop,” you raised an eyebrow, finally meeting his gaze. The only job Eddie kept for any considerable length of time was working on cars downtown at Hawkin’s Tire. It seemed to be one of the only honest jobs he didn’t outright hate. “Full time. I’ll be workin’ forty hours.”

“But Eddie, you said-”

He shushed you gently, shaking his head. “For the past year, I’ve scraped by with dealing and playing gigs, and I’m fuckin’ miserable,” his voice cracked, and a fresh wave of tears spilled past his lashline. “If I don’t get to go home to you two every night, nothin’‘s worth it. Not the music or the high. I’m starting to hate every second of it.”

“You’re drunk right now,” you ran your fingers through his hair and watched him melt into your touch. “How can I believe you?”

His grip around you tightened, and he sat up a little straighter, “Give me a week,” he whispered. “Let me come home next Friday when I get off work at the shop with my first paycheck cashed.” Eddie’s hands traveled to your hips. You gasped when he gripped you tight. “I’ll bring you yellow roses and that wine you like. I’ll bring the little squirt pizza and rent that one stupid Muppet movie he loves,” you started to smile reluctantly. Eddie’s own grin matched it. “And after, I’ll give him his bath and read to him while you open that wine,” you gasped when Eddie’s lips brushed along your exposed collarbone, but you didn’t move to stop him. “When he’s asleep,” he kissed the top of your cleavage and bit back a moan. “If mama wants,” you don’t stop him as he pulls one side of your robe off your shoulder, exposing the soft bralette you fell asleep wearing. “I’ll worship her all night,” his thumb lightly traced your hardening nipple. You gasped and grabbed his shoulders. “Like I’ve been aching to do for months.”

You pulled Eddie up from the floor, standing with him. Your lips met in a flash, months of pain and longing seeping through every brush of tongues and touching of lips. The outline of Eddie’s cock was already pushing into your hips and your mouth watered. When your hand met his denim-clad bulge, he let out the sweetest, filthiest moan. Before you could get very far, he pulled your hand away.

“No, baby,” he planted a wet kiss on the corner of your panting mouth, “Wanna taste you. That okay?” you nodded as he backed you towards the bed.

Even though Eddie’s hands were shaking, he took his time, just like he always did.

“Tell me there hasn’t been anyone else,” he spoke into the skin of your inner thigh.

“No one, Eddie,” you gasped as his tongue met the fabric of your soaked panties. “Only you.”

“Not even Harrington?” he growled, hooking a finger into the crotch of your underwear and pulling it to the side.

“Christ, no!” you groaned as he went straight for your swollen clit, sucking and nibbling it. “You know better than that,” you sighed, grabbing a fist full of sweaty, dark curls. Eddie groaned and you could see his narrow hips grinding down onto the mattress.

“Pull harder,” he gasped. You obeyed and he doubled his efforts on your clit, kissing, licking and nibbling on it. He moaned into your pussy, grinding down onto the bed harder. “Oh, fuck,” he murmured, “Gonna cum in my jeans like a teenager.”

“Do it,” your voice was husky as you found your confidence again. You sat up and slung one leg over his shoulder, gripping his hair even harder. “Show me how pathetic you are, baby,” you rolled your hips into his mouth and the hold Eddie had on your hips tightened. “Cum in your pants while I use that smartassed mouth,” He nodded enthusiastically and you threw your head back. Eddie helped move your hips with his iron grip and a few moments later, you were orgasming into his open mouth. As you came down, you brushed his hair from his sweaty brow. You could tell by his anguished expression he hadn’t come yet.

“Sit up here,” you said, grabbing the back of his neck. Eddie didn’t hesitate to obey you. “I told you,” you purred into his ear, “to cum in your pants for me.” you straddled his lap and he nearly let out a shout when you put your weight down on his crotch.

This was all relatively new territory for the two of you. Normally it was you underneath Eddie being reduced to a whimpering mess, but neither of you seemed too bothered by the new dynamic. Quite the opposite, actually. You can’t remember seeing Eddie this worked up since you were teenagers.

You devoured his mouth as your hips rolled against his, coaxing his release from him. Eddie came with a shout that you happily swallowed. After a few moments, you both started to giggle. You knew you should get up and let him clean himself up, but it felt so good to be near him again and he made no moves to get up form the bed.

“Please don’t think this is a complaint,” he said, kissing your neck lovingly. “But what the fuck was that, huh?”

“Guess that’s what happens when I go that long with no sex,” you laughed. Eddie groaned and wrapped you in a tight hug.

“Never thought I’d be so happy about cummin’ in my jeans, sweet thing,” he growled, rolling you over to lay on top of you.

Things got quiet again and the reality of your situation began to set in. “Eddie?” you questioned. He looked up at you from where he lay on your chest. Thankfully, he seemed to have sobered up considerably.

“Don’t make me regret this, okay?”

“Never, Birdy,” he smiled with with whole face, laugh lines deepening and eyes crinkling at the corners. “I’ll prove it to you Friday.”

“Friday,” you said, hazarding a small, hopeful smile.

“It’s a date,” he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and you pushed his face away laughing.

“Oh a date he says,” you teased. “Pizza and the Muppets. Is that what dating is like once you have kids?”

“Afraid so, sweet cheeks,” Eddie walked towards the dresser, looking in the bottom drawer to see if any of his clothes were still there by chance “We’re boring now.” He smiled over at you when he found an old pair of grey sweats.

“I still sleep in them sometimes…” you admitted, feeling a little embarrassed. Eddie simply nodded and walked into the bathroom to change.

“Just don’t forget the wine and roses,” you warned, raising your voice so he could hear you through the door. “I might never forgive you if you don’t follow through on that part of the deal.”

“I would never,” he said in mock offense as he opened the door. You thought he looked even better in the old pajamas than he did in the tight, ripped jeans. “But you’re forgetting the most important part.”

“What’s that?”

“The worshipping,” he crawled up the bed towards you again. “Might want you to boss me around again, Birdy.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” you said as you slapped his hip lightly.

“Yes ma’am,” he responded as he cuddled into your side. He threw the blankets around you both and before you realized, you were drifting off into the best sleep you’d had in months.

[genericpuff]

alright so this is a post I've been wanting to write up for a little while now, but I was waiting on permission from a third party to post DM's (censored, of course). That permission has since returned with a yes, soooo

LET'S TALK ABOUT RACHEL'S HIRING PROCESSES-

okay this isn't gonna be as comprehensive as I'm making it sound BUT I've mentioned before on this page (albeit briefly and it's long since been buried) that I actually applied to be a background artist for Rachel a couple years ago, I think it was around the midpoint of S2, and it was (obviously) before I turned to the dark side of crit-n-shit-posting. I never got an email back, so that was that. I'd like to think there's a parallel universe out there where instead of joining the antiLO/ULO community, I became an assistant for Rachel and remained a fan. Enjoy that fridge horror thought.

That said, while I didn't get a response, someone on reddit mentioned that they did:

And they were kind enough to share further details with me in DM's.

Right off the bat, I'm fairly certain they were applying to the same ad I was (as it was a posting that Rachel had made on Twiter and the approximate years line up).

All that aside, considering what Rachel's process is like with her assistants (from what we've discussed here in GREAT detail), it's not shocking in the slightest that the vibe of working with Rachel from the very beginning was "IDK what I'm looking for".

Buuut that's not the end of the exchange because it gets better.

Mind you, this was back in 2019 and it was the experience of one user, so it doesn't necessarily reflect every assistant on the team or how Rachel does things down to the last detail. But it's pretty damning enough that you can still see the evidence of this kind of workflow in current LO 4 years later. If anything she's continued to operate with a rapidly declining pipeline because the art just keeps getting worse and worse.

Part me of wants to say that this could be on Webtoons, as they don't offer support to creators to have assistants. Creators have to pay for their assistants completely out of pocket, split from the income they make from Webtoons. This is why so many creators often don't have assistants or their 'assistants' are also their co-creators (see: Nevermore, which is drawn and written by two people working together).

But Rachel has an average of four assistants per episode, sometimes as many as eight in some cases (though it's been a while since that's happened so I won't really count it for this post).

That means Rachel's team is typically made up of five people, including herself, and that's not including the recent addition of copy editors (but that balances out with the times when Amy Kim isn't contributing , she tends to pop in and out).

Now, she's not the only person on WT with a team of this size, there are others with comparable teams if not bigger ones, but NONE of them seem to operate with as much inconsistency as LO does, and that's not on the assistants, that's on Rachel. She's said in interviews that she always wanted to be a director and that making LO on Webtoons was her way of achieving that, but she doesn't seem to have the integrity or leadership skills necessary to take charge when the team isn't working in sync. You don't see any of these insane art art inconsistencies in webtoons like The Kiss Bet or Tower of God (though they have their own problems, the art isn't one of them), and there are webtoons operating without a team at all that are drawing circles around LO right now, like Nevermore (which is, by the way, also edited by Bre Boswell, same as LO).

Now, that's not to say there isn't struggling underneath the surface, the creators of Nevermore have stated how difficult it is to work for Webtoons as it is, especially as creators who don't have assistants. But how is the #1 comic on the platform failing to meet the standards that come with its labels and awards? Why are the exceptionally better comics being drawn by 1-2 people not getting the attention or opportunities they deserve from the platform? And why does Rachel Smythe, one of the highest paid creators on the platform, still seem to struggle with managing a team of artists after five years of publication on Webtoons? Why does she choose to have a large team if she can't pay them adequately? Why have a large team at all if she's not going to utilize their skills properly? To further lighten the load of work onto others?

Really, it just goes to show the lack of care and respect all around - for the self, for the work, and for those who are pushing out the work and meeting the deadlines, whose reputations and potential are being dragged down with the comic itself.

[thatdeadaquarius]

after scrolling through your posts i felt complelled to send an ask (i wonder why)

This kinda? relates to all the languages posts you've been making (was giggling and kicking my feet while reading them, and got inspired) but because I only speak English, I wanted to put a twist on it.

Creator who has audio processing issues and doesn't realise that Teyvat DOES actually speak the same language as them for a good while.

Because as a person with very good hearing, i sure don't fucking understand what people are saying most of the time, especially in big crowds. (its like listening to the sims sometimes man, i'm fighting for my life trying to understand😭)

So imagine a Creator getting dropped into Teyvat and getting found by a group of hunters or treasure horders, who instantly start panicking and talking all at once because 'omg our god is here' and all that.

And the Creator is still confused and diorientated, so all they're hearing is ✨words✨and they just assume that no one in Teyvat will understand them.

And then when they arrive in one of the nations and get to meet the vision bearers for the first time, the Creator makes a thirsty comment about one of them (probably would be Diluc in my case) and the entire crowd just goes SILENT.

So silent that the Creator can perfectlly understand what that vision bearer said in response.

Anyway, i love your blog :) not sure when you're going to get this, time zones are funny, but I hope you like it

Giggling and kicking?? Over my stuff??? 🥺🥺🥺💘💘💘 You sneaky little charmer ✨️

ALSO

AUDIO PROCESSING DISORDER ASK!!!!?????!!!!

:D

IM IN THE MIDDLE OF TRYING TO GET ADHD DIAGNOSIS AND GOT AN APD TEST NOT TOO LONG AGO BC THOUGHT I HAD IT!!

FRIENDO!! THIS IS INCREDIBLE!!! ✨️✨️✨️🌸🌸🌸

Have a cookie!! 🤲🍪 tysm for the ask im very very happy to see it!! :D!!

(subliminalmessagingyouwillgoclicktheaskbuttonandsendmeanasksubliminalmessaging)

AHFJDLLAHFAAJSK!! LOSING IT OVER THIS!!

(Me from the future editing: Sorry i wrote an entire sloppy written scenario over this its diluc focused, jfc sorry and i hope u get smth outta it 💀)

Oh good lord you being some kind of Creator god after getting sucked into the goddmn video game world is absolute HELL for your APD

Aint nobody tellin u nothing bc i can totally see that scenario happening bc everyone is like blabbering at you constantly, they all wanna get close to you to talk so its just [insert that general cafe crowd noises here]

Like u wish u had lofi to go with it bc u sure as hell cant get a word in edgewise

I know i keep writing abt Mondstadt, mostly bc first city -> intro to game -> therefore you land there

But i promise ill branch out guys but i got an excuse this time u mentioned Diluc 🔥

Honestly bc u probably arent trying to talk back to them (which they dont rlly know why? Bc they totally have heard ur voice while u were in ur world, when they were ur vessels)

They kinda assumed either A. You lost your voice B. You're overwhelmed, ppl r getting WAY too close to you, back off Npcs C. Or you don't speak THEIR language

So ofc Mondstadt brings you into the city and their planning a big ol festival, u came right in time for Windblume anyway, and by the time your done shaking hands and just waving and smiling (bc what else can u do u cant hear these fuckers, maybe u caught a "the" or a "hello" but you could've definitely been imagining it)

And finally you are free of the general crowd, but most of the Vision bearers (Allogenes) who were ur vessels wanna stick around, so u all end up in Angel's Share somehow

It's hella packed, and it's a bar.

So yeah u still can't hear shit, and now it just sounds like one of those fantasy medieval bar audios ambience videos

Ur just kinda kicking ur feetsies on a bar stool while like,, 4 or 5 differrent special character dishes are sitting in front of you

Diluc's behind the bar, and has been so sweetly attentive to you all evening, no matter how many tipsy patrons come up yelling for refills or drinks (or at least thats what u assume, bc u kinda end up just,, jumping and hitching ur shoulders up and trying to be lowkey about covering ur ears...)

He always comes and refills ur glass when it gets to even half-full, swiping away plates that have gone cold, and if you still want smth off of it, he's so perceptive no language needed bc he just sees your face and starts heating up the plate again with his vision with his hand :)

He's actually been the best thruout all this bc he already isn't super talkative, so ur pretty sure you've only seen his mouth open a few times, but otherwise u just communicated with him via actions/expressions

So ur chilling, well sorta, ur starting to kinda get overstimulated by the day and now this loud ass bar, and the fact that ur convinced no one speaks English here...

But hey!

Diluc's cool, u got food, and maybe u can charade to him u wanna find somewhere to retire to now for the night,,

You try and do that but he's pretty busy running around still,

"Damn, at least I get to see his ass though."

.

..

...

Diluc freezes.

You freeze.

Jean, Lisa, Venti, Amber, Kaeya, Rosaria freezes.

The whole bar goes silent.

Their god of gods finally spoke.

Oh they can understand you alright. (Also u were looking right at Diluc when you said it so, kinda obvious who u mean, somebody points to you behind Diluc)

Diluc just kinda,, sputters, like jerkily turns around and everything like a fried robot

"I- ahem- I- um- y-your Grace- I-"

Poor guy.

He doesn't even know what to say 🤷‍♂️

He has been progressively getting closer and closer to his hair color, his cheeks, his neck, his ears its a full white boy flush he cant escape its so obvious (should he say thank you? How do u even begin to thank a god for complimenting ur ass??!!)

He's caught between facing you and turning around and ducking back into the kitchen and never coming out again (unless it's just you two)

...Was it always this hot in here? Or did Diluc do this to you? 😵‍💫

(Well at least it's a lot quieter now)

You take the next logical step in this situation, and gently let your head thud into the bar.

...

It's a tie between Venti and Kaeya who busts out laughing first.

CHRIST ALMIGHTY IM SO SORRY THIS IS SO LONG I HOPE TUMBLR MAKES IT "READ MORE" BC I CANT FIND THAT OPTION ON MOBILE

IF U KNOW WHERE THAT BUTTON IS PLS LET A BITCH KNO 😭😩

UPDATE I FIGURED IT OUT FUCK YEAH

Cheers,

🌒🌊🌧Aquarius♒️🌌🌘

[mushroomjar]

Did you think I forgot about it? The Halloween vocaloid playlist is done!! I'll include the links in a reblog so Tumblr doesn't bury the post, there's a YouTube playlist and a Spotify one, the YouTube one being the longer one with nearly 100 songs... yeah, I got carried away lol Reminder for those who have forgotten/not in the know, this playlist starts with cute lighthearted songs about Halloween and monsters, and gets darker in tone and sound the deeper down the playlist you go

I don't want to make the post too long so I'll just include a general content warning for the songs in the playlist, and under the cut I might list all the songs and ramble a bit about what it was like to make the playlist. I hope you enjoy!^^

Content Warnings: flashing lights, bright images, loud sounds and jumpscares, disturbing images and noises, death, body horror, gore, cannibalism, abuse, stalking, potentially paranoia-inducing songs/lyrics

The playlist has been done for days, I've just been procrastinating on actually making the post until now lmao sorry! I had a lot of fun making the playlist and going through the suggestions, it also made me fall in love with some producers I hadn't paid much attention to before (shout out to all of the people who sent in Babuchan suggestions, as you can see I went down a bit of a Babuchan rabbit hole and added tons of his stuff to the playlist, same for machigerita lol)

I'll admit that one of the reasons the playlist kept getting longer was because I'd look at other creepy/scary vocaloid playlists on YouTube for inspiration, and every time I was nearly done I would write down 20 more songs to check out, which is why it took me a whole month to get this playlist done lol. I hope it was worth it! I'm very pleased with how it all turned out

There were also many songs/producers I really liked but decided not to include in the playlist, for example I found DaijoubuP, who I really like, but I didn't think it fit the vibe of the kind of Halloween playlist I wanted to make, so none of his stuff is in the playlist. Same goes for SEIKAI, his songs sound very creepy but I found the lyrics a bit too dark and I wanted to try to keep the playlist a bit more lighthearted. Maybe I'll make a more general vocahorror playlist sometime to highlight all of these producers' work! Who knows

Something else I realized because of this playlist is my standard for creepy vocaloid music might be a bit different than other people's. I got many Maretu suggestions, and I love the guy and completely understand why some of his music was suggested (such as Coin Locker Baby), but it surprised me just how much I'd see him suggested in the notes of my post or in Spotify playlists, he's never really given me the creeps even with his darker lyrics. Not judging! Just an observation I had

You'll notice that I've been using vocaloid as a bit of an umbrella term, since there are a couple of songs that use UTAU and even Synth-V voicebanks^^

I think that's all I have to say for now, so I'll just list all the songs in the playlist and hurry to put the links in a reblog! Thank you so much to everyone who helped with the playlist, all of your suggestions were really appreciated, I would not have as good a playlist if it wasn't for you^^

The song list is mainly because I tried to link back to the original producers whenever possible, and also sometimes the songs were very hard to find, so a lot of the titles are in Japanese, so I figured having the songs and producers written out here would make it a bit easier for you to navigate the playlist^^ Anyway, songs:

Happy Halloween - Junky

SLASH/ER - Circus-P

Ghosts Play To The Audience - PinocchioP

Kikkai Kettai - Meddmia

Zen'yasai no akuma - mayuko

Furaan Furaan Zombie - nem

Fake-Cryer Pumpkin - CycleP

Zen'yasai no kuroneko - mayuko

Halloween Patisserie TrickaTorka - machigerita

Halloweenya - Chinozo

Dream-Eating Monochrome Baku - nem

Creepy Toast - CircusP

Pumpkin March - momocashew

Selfish Princess - fujiwo

Pumpkin Head Spooky Dance - machigerita

Dream Meltic Halloween - machigerita

Giga giga witch - Kurosawa Madoka

Trich, Trach, Trick Parade - sasasaP

Happy Hollow And The God Club - Nanou

Saa, Docchi? - HINATA Haruhana

Propaganda! - Crusher-P

What Gave It Away - R.I.P

Shadow Shadow - Azari

Splatter Party - Camellia

Who? - Azari

Pandemic - YuugouP

Twilight Homicide Song - Kiraboshi Hikaru

Greedy Halloween Candy Nights - machigerita

Gochisou - Xitoo

Spiral-Luvox - Tune Tonic/Switch

Mrs. Pumpkin's Comical Dream - hachi

trick and treat - OSTER Project

Strange Masquerade Halloween - machigerita

Oxidation And Dream Monsters - Ghost

Oz no Kaitai Show - Ankoku DouwaP/Joruzin

Sadistic.Music Factory - cosMo@BouSou-P

Hourglass - HiiragiKirai

Dance With The Dead - Ghost

Alice of Human Sacrifice - Yugami-P

Candy Addict Full Course - machigerita

The Boy Who Went To Hell - SHUDDER

Crazy Clown - Intro-P

Ideal Picture - NanoritaP

Serial Contraption of Malice - Ghost

Twins - Babuchan

Not As It Seems - Creep-P

Amydgala's Rag Doll - Ghost

Hyouhon Shoujo - Kiyozumi

Rotten Girl, Grotesque Romance - machigerita

Grotesque Love Song - shoutarouP

That Woman - shoutarouP

Musunde hiraite rasetsu to mukuro - hachi

Hide And Seek - Ho-ong-i

Tokeru Sakana - Yuzuri_Hal

Greetings From The Bottom Of The Well - machigerita

Color & Electricity - mushiP

Patchwork Toxin - machigerita

Bacterial Contamination - Kanimiso-P

Song for Great Satan - Nanka-P

Taiyou-sama - Abuse/Abuse-Ken

Fear Garden - Chaa

Despair The Burguer Factory - Groy Anderson

The Cyclops - David K.

Tears of Artificial Flowers - Babuchan

Moon Prescription - Babuchan

Rugrats Theory - Crusher-P

Monochrome Ward - Yugami-P

Bone Dead Mansion - Babuchan

50/50 - Risshuu

Dark Woods Circus - machigerita

Wide Knowledge of the Late Madness - machigerita

Tell me you'll love me - Babuchan

After School - Okashi-P

Lavender Town - neku

???????? - SocialPhobiaSynaps

behe-laino_hotza-bihotza - sakizakisaki

In A Rainy Town, Balloons Dance With Devils - hachi

Sand Gum - MOL.

Nodoka na Kyuujitsu - HikkieP

Broken Toy Mania - Babuchan

Red Flower - Babuchan

Cry Baby - Babuchan

Fuzai - MondaijiP

Boku Yaranai, Kimi Itooshi - nicol

Ant Observation - Healing-P

A 13-Year Old Killer - Sunazame

0 People's Waltz - Babuchan

Varicella - Babuchan

Kagome Kagome - Zawazawa-P

potatoman - MondaijiP

Okaasan - machigerita

VOCALOID UTOPIA - dennoko-P

Hyperpnea - Hikkie-P

Crushed Mary - Mondaiji-P

Nakazu to mo Rokkaku Wrench da Hototsugi - MondaijiP

Complex - Watashi no koko

[fanofbirdsflying]

ONLY FRIENDS and a judgemental fandom?

going into this show we knew that this was not going to be a romance. it was made very clear in both trailers that there was going to be lying, cheating and manipulating. this being in store for us was the main reason why i was looking forward to this show which is why i am having a difficult time seeing fandom be so judgemental and annoying about the characters and their actions. (i think the communication between characters sucks or is wishy washy or the things that are communicated are ignored, so ppl come of ass assholes.)

i really liked @bengiyo post about the show as a whole rn.

audience memebers slutshaming?

something i can't quite shake is how straight forward both boston and top are about their casualness when it comes to sex and audience's responses to that. as soon as we saw their casualness, i felt as though many ppl started judging them. now, boston has lied/manipulated which is an actual issue, but their choices in regards to their casualness about sex isn't. nick knew who boston was, and everything mew knew about top from his friends pointed towards a guy who doesn't fit his understanding of dream guy (at first glance). top that first night in the apartment even said he wanted sex from mew and instead of taking that for what it is, mew actually started to consider dating him (had mew been my friend i would have stopped him).

boston is intentionally messing with ray and top (and that's not cool) but people disregarding boston's privacy and his right to it when nick went through his phone and put his own nudes on there, as well as wiring boston's car to spy on him, doesn't sit right with me. it doesn't matter how casual boston is about sex, nick disrespecting his boundaries is not ok. the phone situation boston didn't really take issue with (they started hooking up afterwards) but a lot of other people would have. the wiring of the car is a whole other thing. some ppl are ignoring this though because nick is "naive" and fell for a guy who only wants sex.

something similar is happening with the boston-top situation. in my opinion top didn't look fully comfortable when things started/were happening in the shower as well as in the car (you can see the switch happening and at what point top decides to have sex with boston). and now the elevator

great post about top with good additions. written by @respectthepetty and @wen-kexing-apologist

while i am not sure if top has anxiety, i do think there is something about him and his relationship to sex that is more than just, he likes to have sex (which is totally fine). this post says sth similar.

i just feel like, many people in the audience don't really recognize or want to acknowledge how boston and top's boundaries are pushed just because they are "sluts" and i don't like that.

mew as THE VIRGIN in the story is immeadiately seen as angel who can't do wrong.

but to me there were a few moments that felt judgemental tbh. mew seems judgemental sometimes, maybe like the audience?. people have discussed things that sound interesting and i hope the show explores them, such as his deal with control as well as the question what it is that he actually wants from top. so many of the things he knew about top before they started properly talking, were all things that go against what he seems to consider ideal partner material. what is he gaining from making top change into what mew considers "good boyfriend"? why did he give top a chance? why is he continueing?

i wonder if there will be commentary on society pressuring people into losing their virginities by a certain age? it's possible that mew is fixated on it in his own way. looking back, he did invite top back to his place knowing top wanted sex and started making out with him and seemed interested, but stopped before they did it. now he uses forms of sex to control top and his actions (ep4, "no penetration").there is sth to unpack here.

top gains a new experience by being with mew. he says he's not interested in what he was doing before, so mew is a change.

comparing mew's and top's reactions to someone pushing for sth physical that they themselves don't want is interesting. mew straight up pushes the other person away and asks them what are you doing, while top hesitates even though he doesn't want it. mew knows or shows his boundaries better than top does.

people see top for his looks, money and status. sleeping with him is kinda seen as win/victory/success (ep1). it makes me wonder if part of him also sees himself only good for sex. not entirely, because there seems to be some confidence in himself and his status etc. but partially? we also know about his substance abuse which he claims he's into just to have fun with friends, yet the first time we see him use is without friends.....

if u want to be untagged please tell me. i just wanted to give credit.

[aokoaoi]

Hi Hi!

Can you do a Norm Spellman x male! (Or gn!) omaticayan!reader?

(I genuinely haven't seen any norm fanfics and I'm so sad about it. )

Have a wonderful evening<3

norman spellman x gn!reader.

◗pairing's :: norman spellman x gn!reader.

◗ warning's :: tiniest avatar 2009 spoilers.

◗ author's note :: this is my first time writing a gn!reader, so their might be errors on how i referred the reader to. if you see any mistakes, please point it out, ill fix it right away<3 might write another norm spellman post too bcs i don't really like this one<\3

"What's that?" You peered over Norman's shoulder as he flipped over a ginormous book. He turns at you, looking at the side of your face as he was also confused. "It's a book. I thought you knew what those are?" He questioned.

You were another na'vi from the Omaticaya clan, a friend of Neytiri, Jake's mate. You learned the english language with Neytiri back when sky-people hadn't attacked the clan back then, and you've learned a lot from Kìreysì, who was also known as Grace Augustine.

Like other Omaticayas learning from her back then, you loved the woman and even called her your closes friend. You've never blamed her for what happened, and you even forgiven her unspoken apology.

You awed at the sight of the smooth, white papers, finding interest in it. "Oh, a book! Kìreysì taught me about this, but I kind of forgot." You chuckled nervously, sitting beside Norman. He notices your gaze on the book, and decides to give it to you.

Norm noticed how you sometimes stare at things you find interest in, and it gives you the curiosity and urge to learn more about it. You smiled at his actions, grateful you didn't have to ask to let him know.

Your eyes scanned the english dialog written on the pages. Some were far too deep for you to understand, but some you found familiar with. You flipped over the page, being extra careful with the object as you were scared you'd accidentally rip it.

You let out a sound similar of a coo when you saw the pictures of technologies plastered on the book. You pointed at one of it, and looked at Norman. "I know these, I saw you bring one here!" You smiled.

Norman fondly smiled at your speech, happy you're making bigger progress. "Yep, but if you see someone else bring it, it means danger. Okay?" Your ears twitched at the sound of the word, and suddenly you felt numb.

"Danger?" You frowned, "Why dangerous?" Your head tilted, confused. Norman licks his lips slightly, slowly forming his words in a nicer way to explain to you.

"Well, (nickname). These technologies aren't really safe, and they can harm you. It can even kill you," he notices your ears dropping down at his forwardness, but he continues. "These people carrying these are bad. They're not here to make friends, and they're only gonna harm you. You know about sky-people, don't you?" You nodded at his question.

"I'm one of the sky-people, but my human body is connected to an Avatar body right now, that's why I dont look human."

You frowned, "You're not sky-people. You're far more different from those cruel demons." You stated, brows furrowed as you were upset by his words.

"But I am sky-people. I'm human." You incredulously shook your head as he continued to tell you he's a sky people. You obviously knew about the man being human, and his body being connected to a na'vi Avatar. But you'd never put him in the same category as those merciless demons.

You liked Norman because of who he was, and how he was so different from the species he was related to. You even had to admit that you even had a soft spot for him.

"So you think I'm na'vi?" You also shook your head again at that question. Norman looks at you, confused as to what you're getting at. You noticed his look, and decide to explain yourself. "I know you're not na'vi, and i know where you came from. What I'm saying is that I don't consider you as those demons, because you're different than them."

"I'd rather shoot myself in the leg with an arrow than describe you in the same category as those creatures. You're far more than them, Norm." You grasped his hands with your own, watching as a small fond smile crossed through his face.

"Please don't shoot yourself in the leg."

You hummed, booping his nose with your pointer finger. You sat beside him, your shoulders leaning against his as you leaned your weight on him. "Dou you wanna go ikran flying with me?" You perked up, watching as he closed the book her was holding and placed it back inside his bag.

"Alright. But don't you remember the last time we did that?"

"You almost fell, yes. But that was partly your fault, you weren't holding on to me." You frowned, vividly remembering how the second Norman wasn't holding onto you, he was almost pushed off your Ikran's back.

Norman shrugged at your words, "i guess you're right." He admits, outstretching a hand out for you to take, hoisting you up fom the log you were both sitting on. You cheered happily, holding his hands as you lead him to the direction Hallelujah mountains were.

© aokoaoi

[linghxr]

Analyzing Chinese Names: Syllables & Tones

It’s been a while since my last post about Chinese names. In one previous post, I wrote that I wanted to explore tones and syllable structure in Chinese names. And now here we are. I ended up shifting my focus a bit throughout the process, but I’m still excited to be sharing my results.

These questions/ideas guided this post:

Sometimes you don’t know how a name is written because you’ve only heard it or seen a transliteration. Setting aside the written language (Chinese characters), what syllables/sounds are most common?

I have read about naming conventions regarding tones. For example, using a mix of tones (instead of reusing the same tone) gives names a dynamic flow. So how are tones distributed in names?

Buckle up, everyone. This is gonna be a long one.

About the Data

I started with the data from my previous in-depth post about Chinese names. Like before, most names are from contestants on idol shows or members of idol groups. I added more names in this category and also some names of athletes (since for athletes it is also relatively easy to discern gender). In total, there were 4361 names (2340 female, 2021 male). Most names belong to individuals from Mainland China, but there are also names belonging to people from Taiwan, Hong Kong, Malaysia, and Singapore. See my past post for more details.

I had to do a lot of work to process the name data for this analysis. I will add some details towards the end of this post for those who are interested. I just want to note here that: 

I did some work to account for tone sandhi for yi 一. As a result, you may see this character labeled as 1st, 2nd, or 4th tone.

I also applied tone change rules when there were multiple 3rd tones in a row (but not for surnames as it shouldn’t change there).

I had to correct for duoyinzi 多音字. Most of the time, it’s pretty clear which pronunciation is used, but there are some ambiguous cases.

I use standard Mainland pronunciation, not Taiwanese pronunciation. Characters like 薇 are pronounced differently in these locations.

I’m an imperfect human and probably didn’t catch everything. So keep that in mind.

Given Names (Overall)

First we will examine the overall results for all syllables across all given names to get a nice overview. Then we will dive into single-character given names vs. two-character given names.

Top Given Name Syllables (w/ Tones)

Pictured: Some of the most frequent characters for the top 11 syllables.

List format: Syllable / count Corresponding characters that occurred more than once

Yǔ / 263 宇 雨 羽 语 予 禹 瑀

Xīn / 229 欣 鑫 馨 心 昕 新 歆 芯 薪

Jiā / 216 佳 嘉 家 加 珈

Yì / 201 一 艺 奕 逸 亦 毅 懿 翊 义 易 翼 忆 意 译 轶 熠 羿 亿 薏

Zǐ / 139 子 梓 紫

Qí / 134 琪 琦 奇 祺 麒 淇 齐 棋 其 岐 崎

Wén / 116 文 雯 闻 纹

Jié / 112 杰 洁 婕 捷 颉 倢

Yù / 102 玉 钰 煜 昱 郁 裕 喻 谕 毓 育 誉

Jùn / 99 俊 峻 珺 骏 浚 竣

Yáng / 99 洋 阳 扬 杨 炀 旸

Top Given Name Syllables (w/o Tones)

List format: Syllable / count Corresponding characters that occurred more than once

Yu / 419 宇 雨 玉 羽 钰 语 瑜 予 妤 煜 禹 昱 郁 俞 渝 裕 于 喻 瑀 谕 余 娱 愚 毓 育 誉

Yi / 356 一 怡 艺 奕 仪 依 逸 亦 伊 毅 宜 懿 翊 义 祎 易 翼 苡 忆 意 译 轶 颐 乙 以 熠 羿 亿 倚 薏

Xin / 232 欣 鑫 馨 心 昕 新 歆 芯 薪 信

Jia / 217 佳 嘉 家 加 珈

Jun / 165 俊 君 峻 钧 军 珺 均 骏 浚 竣

Zi / 157 子 梓 紫 姿 兹

Qi / 151 琪 琦 奇 祺 绮 麒 启 淇 齐 棋 其 岐 崎

Hao / 141 豪 浩 昊 皓 灏 淏 濠

Wei / 139 伟 玮 威 维 薇 蔚 微 炜 唯 纬 葳 为 崴 巍 𬀩 苇 韦

Xiao / 136 晓 小 笑 筱 孝 潇 篠 箫 肖

Given Name Syllable Tones

List format: Tone / count

2nd / 2729

1st / 1993

4th / 1885

3rd / 1167

Single-Character Given Names (单名)

There were 948 single-character names in total. That comes out to about 22% of all 4361 names. 

Top Single-Character Given Names (w/ Tones)

List format: Syllable / count All corresponding characters

Xīn / 41 鑫 欣 昕 馨 新 心 锌

Yáng / 29 洋 扬 杨 阳 旸 炀

Yǔ / 20 宇 雨 禹 羽 瑀 语

Lì / 18 丽 立 莉 俐 栎 栗

Yì / 18 艺 奕 逸 忆 易 毅 燚 羿

Yuè / 18 悦 玥 越 月 粤 跃

Jié / 17 洁 杰 倢 婕 捷 颉

Hào / 16 浩 昊 淏 灏

Jìng / 14 静 婧 靓* 竞 靖

Qiàn / 14 倩 茜**

*Can be pronounced jìng or liàng. I went with jìng. **Can be pronounced qiàn or xī. I went with qiàn.

Top Single-Character Given Names (w/o Tones)

List format: Syllable / count All corresponding characters

Xin / 41 鑫 欣 昕 馨 新 心 锌

Yu / 31 宇 雨 钰 煜 玉 瑜 禹 羽 昱 渝 瑀 语

Yang / 29 洋 扬 杨 阳 旸 炀

Yi / 23 艺 奕 怡 逸 一 忆 易 毅 燚 祎 羿

Wei / 22 伟 威 炜 维 蔚 薇 𬀩 玮

Hao / 19 浩 昊 豪 淏 灏

Jing / 19 静 晶 婧 靓* 璟 竞 菁 靖

Li / 19 丽 立 莉 俐 李 栎 栗

Ying / 19 颖 莹 影 滢 赢 瀛 盈

Yue / 18 悦 玥 越 月 粤 跃

*Can be pronounced jìng or liàng. I went with jìng.

Single-Character Name Tones

List format: Tone / count

2nd / 308

4th / 264

1st / 253

3rd / 123

Full Name Tone Patterns for Single-Character Given Names

Look at the darker “stripes” for the 2nd tone. The 3rd tone’s low popularity also stood out to me.

List format: Tone of surname, tone of given name / count

2nd, 2nd / 140

2nd, 1st / 127

2nd, 4th / 123

1st, 2nd / 80

1st, 4th / 73

1st, 1st / 68

2nd, 3rd / 52

4th, 2nd / 45

3rd, 2nd / 43

1st, 3rd / 39

3rd, 4th / 37

4th, 4th / 31

3rd, 1st / 29

4th, 1st / 29

4th, 3rd / 17

3rd, 3rd / 15

Two-Character Given Names (双名)

Now for two-character given names. There were 3413 total (about 78%). First I will look at these given names as a whole. Then I will separately examine the 1st syllable and 2nd syllable positions.

I was very interested to see the most common name going by sound and not characters. Living in the US, I often see transliterated Chinese names with no characters in sight. This effectively “merges” names that are distinct in Chinese. All I can do is guess what the characters (and thus tones) are.

Top Two-Character Given Names (w/ Tones)

Pictured: Character combinations that occurred more than once for the top 12 two-character given names.

List format: Given name / count All corresponding character combinations

Jiāxīn / 17 嘉欣 佳欣 佳薪 佳鑫 嘉新 嘉歆 嘉馨

Jiāyí / 12 佳怡 嘉怡 佳仪 嘉仪 家仪 家怡

Xīnyǔ / 10 心雨 新宇 心语 欣宇 欣雨 鑫宇 馨予

Xīnyuè / 10 馨月 心玥 昕玥 欣悦 歆玥 馨悦 馨玥

Hàorán / 9 浩然 皓然

Jùnjié / 9 俊杰 俊洁

Chénxī / 8 晨曦 晨熙 晨晞 晨晰 晨溪

Jiāqí / 8 佳琦 家齐 佳琪 嘉琪 嘉祺 嘉齐

Shānshān / 8 珊珊 杉杉 姗姗

Xīnyí / 8 心怡 欣怡 心仪 鑫怡

Yìwén / 8 一文 奕雯 艺文 译文 逸文

Yǔqíng / 8 雨晴 语晴 宇晴 雨情

Top Two-Character Given Names (w/o Tones)

List format: Given name / count All corresponding character combinations

Jiaxin / 17 嘉欣 佳欣 佳薪 佳鑫 嘉新 嘉歆 嘉馨

Jiayi / 16 佳怡 嘉怡 佳仪 佳依 加一 嘉仪 嘉艺 嘉谊 家仪 家怡 家毅

Xinyu / 15 心雨 欣妤 新宇 心妤 心玉 心语 欣宇 欣雨 鑫宇 馨予

Junjie / 12 俊杰 军杰 俊洁 钧杰

Xiaoyu / 12 小雨 晓玉 晓钰 小钰 晓宇 晓瑜 晓雨 笑语

Yifan / 12 一凡 艺凡 一帆 一幡 一璠 依凡 屹繁 怡凡 薏帆

Xinyi / 10 心怡 欣怡 心仪 欣佚 鑫一 鑫怡

Xinyue / 10 馨月 心玥 昕玥 欣悦 歆玥 馨悦 馨玥

Yuqing / 10 雨晴 语晴 宇庆 宇晴 钰清 雨情

Two-Character Given Name Tones

The grey square is due to the 3rd tone tone change rule.

List format: Tone of given name 1st syllable, tone of given name 2nd syllable / count

4th, 2nd / 560

1st, 2nd / 421

3rd, 2nd / 373

2nd, 2nd / 304

4th, 1st / 282

3rd, 1st / 191

1st, 1st / 183

2nd, 1st / 177

1st, 4th / 169

2nd, 4th / 152

1st, 3rd / 134

2nd, 3rd / 130

4th, 4th / 121

3rd, 4th / 120

4th, 3rd / 96

Full Name Tone Patterns for Two-Character Given Names

Pictured: The top 10 full name tone patterns for two-character given names.

I found these results very interesting. As I mentioned earlier, I’ve read about how using certain sequences of tones creates a pleasant-sounding flow. I had some fun saying aloud names that fit these patterns and judging the dynamic ups-and-downs of how they flow.

List format: Tone of surname, tone of given name 1st syllable, tone of given name 2nd syllable / count

2nd, 4th, 2nd / 273

2nd, 1st, 2nd / 179

2nd, 3rd, 2nd / 179

2nd, 4th, 1st / 138

1st, 4th, 2nd / 135

2nd, 2nd, 2nd / 129

1st, 3rd, 2nd / 98

2nd, 3rd, 1st / 95

2nd, 1st, 4th / 92

1st, 1st, 2nd / 89

These are only the top 10 patterns. See the bottom of the post for the full list.

Two-Character Given Names: First Syllable

Top First Syllables for Two-Character Given Names (w/ Tones)

List format: Syllable / count Corresponding characters that occurred more than once

Jiā / 171 佳 嘉 家 加 珈

Yì / 138 一 艺 奕 逸 亦 翊 易 义 懿 翼 译 亿 忆 毅 羿 薏 轶

Zǐ / 123 子 梓 紫

Yǔ / 115 雨 宇 语 羽 禹 予

Xīn / 95 欣 心 馨 鑫 新 昕 歆 薪 芯

Xiǎo / 79 晓 小 筱

Jùn / 69 俊 峻 珺 竣 骏

Sī / 63 思 斯

Yù / 53 玉 钰 煜 昱 郁 裕 喻 毓 育 誉

Mèng / 49 梦 孟

Top First Syllables for Two-Character Given Names (w/o Tones)

List format: Syllable / count Corresponding characters that occurred more than once

Yi / 201 一 艺 奕 怡 依 逸 亦 翊 伊 宜 易 苡 义 乙 以 懿 翼 译 亿 忆 毅 祎 羿 薏 轶

Yu / 188 雨 宇 语 玉 钰 羽 禹 煜 俞 昱 郁 于 渝 裕 予 喻 毓 瑜 育 誉

Jia / 171 佳 嘉 家 加 珈

Zi / 133 子 梓 紫 姿

Xiao / 118 晓 小 笑 孝 潇 筱

Xin / 98 欣 心 馨 鑫 新 昕 歆 信 薪 芯

Jun / 84 俊 峻 君 钧 军 珺 竣 骏

Jing / 67 静 婧 景 敬 靖 晶 京 竞

Zhi / 61 智 志 芷 之 治 知 祉

Si / 60 思 斯

First Syllable Tones for Two-Character Given Names

List format: Tone / count

4th / 1059

1st / 907

2nd / 763

3rd / 684

Two-Character Given Names: Second Syllable

Top Second Syllables for Two-Character Given Names (w/ Tones)

List format: Syllable / count Corresponding characters that occurred more than once

Yǔ / 128 宇 雨 羽 予 语 瑀 禹

Qí / 100 琪 琦 祺 奇 淇 齐 棋 麒 岐

Xīn / 93 欣 鑫 馨 昕 心 新 歆 芯

Jié / 83 杰 洁 婕 捷

Wén / 68 文 雯

Yí / 63 怡 仪 宜 颐

Lín / 61 霖 琳 林 麟 淋

Tíng / 61 婷 廷 庭

Yuán / 59 源 元 媛 圆 园 缘 原

Yáng / 58 阳 洋 扬 杨 炀

Top Second Syllables for Two-Character Given Names (w/o Tones)

List format: Syllable / count Corresponding characters that occurred more than once

Yu / 200 宇 雨 玉 羽 瑜 妤 予 钰 语 昱 煜 谕 郁 余 瑀 禹

Yi / 132 怡 仪 一 毅 依 艺 逸 亦 伊 宜 懿 颐 义 奕 意 祎 熠 翼 轶

Qi / 105 琪 琦 祺 奇 淇 绮 齐 棋 麒 岐

Xin / 93 欣 鑫 馨 昕 心 新 歆 芯

Jie / 83 杰 洁 婕 捷

Wei / 75 伟 玮 薇 维 威 微 炜 蔚 葳 崴 纬

Hao / 74 豪 昊 浩 皓 濠

Jun / 72 君 俊 钧 峻 军 均 珺 骏

Wen / 68 文 雯

Yuan / 68 源 元 媛 圆 远 园 渊 缘 原

Second Syllable Tones for Two-Character Given Names

List format: Tone / count

2nd / 1658

1st / 833

4th / 562

3rd / 360

Surnames

Because the majority of the population shares a relatively small number of surnames, I decided to only look at tones.

Surname Tones

List format: Tone / count

2nd / 2047

1st / 1072

3rd / 640

4th / 602

Just take a look at the top 20 surnames in China. Clearly, the 2nd tone is dominating. There’s only one 4th tone surname!

Data Processing

I segmented the names so each character was alone. I just did this in Google Sheets, because that’s where I store the names I’ve gathered. Then I exported the data in CSV format.

I discarded names longer than 3 characters—because these are less common, I decided not to address them to make things easier for myself.

I used the pinyin library for Python to obtain pinyin for each character. I used the numerical format (ie. “ni3”) so that I could easily obtain the syllable w/o tone, the syllable w/ tone, and the tone. I also utilized pandas and numpy. This was done in Google Colabs. I made the unfortunate mistake of not commenting my code, and I wrote it a while ago, so I now I have no idea what is going on (whoops).

Next I dumped this data into a tibble in R for the real analysis.

For as many 多音字 as I could identify, I had to check and potentially fix the pinyin transcription. For example, I had to make sure that 曾 was going to zeng1, not ceng2. Honestly, I’m sure I missed something, but this was so, so tedious. This is also the step where I accounted for the 3rd tone tone change and yi 一 tone change rules.

I used a Python script to convert the toneless pinyin to my own syllable notation system. This was tricky to figure out, but fortunately I was able to use some code I already had from a project I was involved in during college.

I added the syllable info to my giant tibble in R. Because everything was separated into surname, given name 1st character, and given name 2nd character, I also had to create some new columns to combine information to get information for whole given names and full names.

Then it was basically a lot of pipes. Here’s an example: names %>%  filter(nchar(names$name) > 2) %>%  group_by(given_struc) %>%  summarise(count = n()) %>%  arrange(desc(count)) %>%  view()

Bonus Lists

There were some other things I was curious about but felt didn’t have a place in the main body of this post.

I wanted to see which syllables were represented by the most unique characters in my dataset. If the number of unique characters is high, that’s a sign that I would probably have trouble guessing which character someone’s name contains.

I was also curious about open vs. closed syllables and closed syllables ending in /n/ vs. /ŋ/. For instance, take a pair of names like Yixin and Xinyi or Xinling and Lingxin. These names consist of the same syllables in a different order. I wanted to know which order is more common.

Syllables with the Most Unique Characters (w/ Tones)

List format: Syllable / count All corresponding characters

Yì / 27 一 艺 奕 逸 亦 毅 懿 翊 义 易 翼 忆 意 译 轶 熠 羿 亿 薏 佚 佾 埸 屹 异 弋 怿 燚 翌

Qí / 15 琪 琦 奇 祺 麒 淇 齐 棋 其 岐 崎 圻 祁 祈 骐

Yú / 14 瑜 妤 俞 渝 于 余 娱 愚 宇*** 愉 榆 舆 雨*** 鱼

Yù / 14 玉 钰 煜 昱 郁 裕 喻 谕 毓 育 誉 寓 浴 芋

Xīn / 12 欣 鑫 馨 心 昕 新 歆 芯 薪 妡 忻 锌

Yuán / 12 源 媛 元 园 圆 缘 原 嫄 沅 湲 芫 袁

Líng / 11 玲 灵 凌 翎 绫 伶 羚 铃 龄 苓 陵

Xī / 11 希 熙 曦 溪 晞 惜 熹 兮 浠 晰 西

Hóng / 9 宏 红 弘 鸿 泓 虹 洪 闳 汯

Lì / 9 丽 莉 立 力 俐 利 俪 栎 栗

Zhēn / 9 珍 真 臻 蓁 祯 桢 榛 甄 贞

***3rd tone character that is pronounced as 2nd tone due to appearing before another 3rd tone character.

Syllables with the Most Unique Characters (w/o Tones)

List format: Syllable / count All corresponding characters

Yi / 45 一 怡 艺 奕 仪 依 逸 亦 伊 毅 宜 懿 翊 义 祎 易 翼 苡 忆 意 译 轶 颐 乙 以 熠 羿 亿 倚 薏 佚 佾 埸 壹 夷 屹 异 弋 怿 沂 洢 燚 翌 谊 铱

Yu / 33 宇 雨 玉 羽 钰 语 瑜 予 妤 煜 禹 昱 郁 俞 渝 裕 于 喻 瑀 谕 余 娱 愚 毓 育 誉 寓 愉 榆 浴 舆 芋 鱼

Qi / 20 琪 琦 奇 祺 绮 麒 启 淇 齐 棋 其 岐 崎 圻 期 柒 栖 祁 祈 骐

Wei / 20 伟 玮 威 维 薇 蔚 微 炜 唯 纬 葳 为 崴 巍 𬀩 苇 韦 卫 惟 未

Yan / 19 妍 言 燕 彦 艳 岩 延 谚 嫣 琰 雁 晏 研 颜 砚 衍 严 炎 焱

Yuan / 16 源 媛 元 远 园 圆 渊 缘 原 嫄 愿 沅 湲 芫 苑 袁

Xi / 16 希 熙 曦 汐 溪 晞 玺 喜 惜 熹 兮 浠 习 晰 禧 西

Xiao / 15 小 笑 筱 孝 潇 篠 箫 肖 宵 效 枭 校 萧 霄

Yun / 15 云 芸 韵 昀 赟 允 匀 沄 筠 韫 妘 澐 蕰 蕴 运

Zhen / 15 振 珍 真 臻 蓁 祯 震 镇 朕 桢 榛 甄 贞 轸 圳

Two-Character Given Name Syllable Structures

This is the top 10 out of 14 (the bottom 4 were very rare).

List format: Structure of given name 1st syllable, structure of given name 2nd syllable — example / count

Open, open — ex: Jiayi / 821

Open, closed-n — ex: Yijin / 701

Open, closed-ng — ex: Yijing / 468

Closed-n, open — ex: Jinyi / 450

Closed-ng, open — ex: Jingyi / 308

Closed-n, closed-n — ex: Jinyan / 206

Closed-ng, closed-n — ex: Jingyan / 157

Closed-n, closed-ng — ex: Jinyang / 141

Closed-ng, closed-ng — ex: Jingyang / 139

Open, closed-er — ex: Xue'er / 14

Full Name Syllable Structures for Two-Character Given Names

This is the top 29 out of 36 (the bottom 7 were very rare).

List format: Structure of surname syllable, structure of given name 1st syllable, structure of given name 2nd syllable — example / count

Open, open, open— ex: Li Jiayi / 370

Open, open, closed-n— ex: Li Yijin / 336

Closed-ng, open, open— ex: Wang Jiayi / 273

Open, open, closed-ng— ex: Li Yijing / 228

Open, closed-n, open— ex: Li Jinyi / 225

Closed-ng, open, closed-n— ex: Wang Yijin / 223

Closed-n, open, open— ex: Chen Jiayi / 178

Closed-ng, closed-n, open— ex: Wang Jinyi / 165

Open, closed-ng, open— ex: Li Jingyi / 151

Closed-ng, open, closed-ng— ex: Wang Yijing / 146

Closed-n, open, closed-n— ex: Chen Yijin / 142

Open, closed-n, closed-n— ex: Li Jinyan / 104

Closed-ng, closed-ng, open— ex: Wang Jingyi / 97

Closed-n, open, closed-ng— ex: Chen Yijing / 94

Open, closed-ng, closed-n— ex: Li Jingyan / 86

Open, closed-ng, closed-ng— ex: Li Jingyang / 75

Open, closed-n, closed-ng— ex: Li Jinyang / 66

Closed-ng, closed-n, closed-n— ex: Wang Jinyan / 62

Closed-n, closed-n, open— ex: Chen Jinyi / 60

Closed-n, closed-ng, open— ex: Chen Jingyi / 60

Closed-ng, closed-n, closed-ng— ex: Wang Jinyang / 45

Closed-ng, closed-ng, closed-ng— ex: Wang Jingyang / 45

Closed-ng, closed-ng, closed-n— ex: Wang Jingyan / 43

Closed-n, closed-n, closed-n— ex: Chen Jinyan / 40

Closed-n, closed-n, closed-ng— ex: Chen Jinyang / 30

Closed-n, closed-ng, closed-n— ex: Chen Jingyan / 28

Closed-n, closed-ng, closed-ng— ex: Chen Jingyang / 19

Open, open, closed-er— ex: Li Xue'er / 8

Closed-ng, open, closed-er— ex: Wang Xue'er / 4

Extended List(s)

Full Name Tone Patterns for Two-Character Given Names

2nd, 4th, 2nd / 273

2nd, 1st, 2nd / 179

2nd, 3rd, 2nd / 179

2nd, 4th, 1st / 138

1st, 4th, 2nd / 135

2nd, 2nd, 2nd / 129

1st, 3rd, 2nd / 98

2nd, 3rd, 1st / 95

2nd, 1st, 4th / 92

1st, 1st, 2nd / 89

2nd, 1st, 1st / 88

2nd, 2nd, 1st / 84

3rd, 1st, 2nd / 83

3rd, 4th, 2nd / 81

1st, 2nd, 2nd / 73

4th, 4th, 2nd / 71

4th, 1st, 2nd / 70

1st, 4th, 1st / 69

2nd, 3rd, 4th / 68

2nd, 2nd, 3rd / 64

2nd, 1st, 3rd / 59

3rd, 2nd, 2nd / 59

2nd, 2nd, 4th / 56

4th, 3rd, 2nd / 56

2nd, 4th, 4th / 54

2nd, 4th, 3rd / 47

1st, 2nd, 4th / 43

4th, 2nd, 2nd / 43

1st, 1st, 3rd / 42

4th, 4th, 1st / 42

1st, 3rd, 1st / 41

3rd, 3rd, 2nd / 40

1st, 1st, 1st / 35

1st, 2nd, 1st / 35

1st, 2nd, 3rd / 35

1st, 1st, 4th / 34

4th, 1st, 1st / 34

3rd, 4th, 1st / 33

1st, 4th, 4th / 31

3rd, 2nd, 1st / 30

1st, 3rd, 4th / 29

4th, 2nd, 1st / 28

4th, 3rd, 1st / 28

3rd, 2nd, 4th / 27

3rd, 3rd, 1st / 27

3rd, 1st, 1st / 26

4th, 2nd, 4th / 26

1st, 4th, 3rd / 23

3rd, 1st, 4th / 23

3rd, 2nd, 3rd / 21

3rd, 4th, 4th / 20

4th, 1st, 4th / 20

4th, 1st, 3rd / 19

3rd, 4th, 3rd / 18

4th, 4th, 4th / 16

3rd, 1st, 3rd / 14

3rd, 3rd, 4th / 14

4th, 2nd, 3rd / 10

4th, 3rd, 4th / 9

4th, 4th, 3rd / 8

If you made it to the end, I am seriously impressed by your dedication. Thanks for checking out my nerdy ramblings about Chinese names! Don’t forget to check out my past posts on this topic for more. I hope they will help demystify Chinese names and make learning about Chinese names less intimidating.

A Closer Look at Chinese Names

Reading Chinese Names: Female Names

Reading Chinese Names: Male Names

[shiny-jr]

HOW DO YOU WRITE SO GOOD?? (tutorial/tips pls)

your writing is IMMACULATE AND SOOOOO, words can't even convey the feelings I get whenever I read your works

Lol, uh, brain makes things.

I got a similar message about characterization, so I'm going to try to include as many tips and personal tricks that I can in this post. I'll bolden the words that summarize each part, that way it's not too much of a mess and people can quickly find what they're looking for.

I'll mention CHARACTERIZATION first, just to check it off the list. So, the only characters I write for besides my own personal ocs, are the cast from twst. Compared to other series, the cast isn't that big, but it's still a pretty sizable cast. You got a mysterious and ominous fae prince with a penchant for speaking in a refined manner that at times sounds menacing, with a model/actor/singer beauty that also speaks more on the elegant side of things, but on the opposite spectrum you have a beastman who's arrogant and has bouts of laziness but is in no way incompetent, oh and don't forget the gloomy shut-in that weirdly enough has strange boosts of confidence and is snarky in his replies at times despite being very introverted and lacking in confidence. There's so many different characters, but I see them get mischaracterized very often. Here are some of the things I do to try and avoid making this mistake...

Look at references. This one may seem obvious, but I feel like people may not do this and just write what they want in the moment without much consideration. Often times if I find myself stuck and wondering what a character might do in response to something, I'll put a pause on my work and look up references to look at. By references, I mean things such as real dialogue from whatever media they may be in. In the case of twst, I'll go back to chapters the character appears in, or even listen to their voice lines. If I'm really stuck, I'll resort to looking at other posts like fanfics or fanart, and by then I usually get an idea. (I take a lot of liberties as a yandere writer)

Similar characters. There are times when I see one character, and think that they act very similarly to another character from somewhere else. In that case, thinking of the other character may help as well, but you have to be a little careful here since there will be obvious differences that could lead to mischaracterization.

Compare. In this one, I think it's important that I highlight that I do not mean to compare your entire work to someone else's. What I mean here is, if you have a writer who you like and you think they write the characters very well, then look at their work. What exactly about their work makes it seem like the character is well written? Maybe they use certain words, or describe certain things? Try and take a note of that. Unfortunately there is a lot of mischaracterization, so if you see some, it might actually be worth taking a note of so you know what you want to avoid when you're writing.

Take a step back. When I'm done writing, I read over the entire thing. I actually do multiple rereads, sometimes in the middle of writing, but I think the most important one is when everything is completed. When you think the draft is finished and you're almost ready to share, just read over it. Try to imagine that you're someone else, a reader who just found the post and began to read it. If you were another reader looking over this, would you be content with the way the characters are written or would you think that it needs improvement?

WORDS AND GRAMMAR. Ah, yes, I still make mistakes here often, I won't lie. I don't use too many sites to help with this. Just two that I can think of off the top of my head.

WordHippo. My savior. I use this site for everything, from writing silly little posts to writing important essays for college. It helps with everything from synonyms, antonyms, definitions, rhymes, etc. But I mainly use it for synonyms. For example, when I write for a character that speaks more meticulously or elegantly, you know, like the type of character that uses bigger/uncommon words, I'll use this site. Like, I know what I want the character to say or do, but I only know a simple word that might be boring or repetitive after a while, right? So using this site, I just find synonyms that fit way better and match the tone I'm trying to use.

Autocorrect. So, usually I'll mainly write on google docs, but this feature is on most sites by now. The system will automatically correct a mistake or highlight it if it thinks a mistake was made, which has caught some errors I've made on multiple occasions. But it's not entirely reliable, because sometimes something you wrote might actually be right but it changes it to something else. So just be aware if you do use autocorrect and read over for mistakes anyways.

And now, for MUSIC. I always listen to music when I write, it's like a necessity now. But it's a bit of a double-edged sword for two reasons. One: songs with lyrics tend to distract me. This may not be the case for everyone, but most of the time if I play a song with lyrics, chances are that I'll end up focusing on the lyrics instead of writing. Not all the time, but most of the time. Two: just trying to search for good music to listen to can lead you falling down a rabbit hole, because then you're just there scrolling and deciding what you want to listen to.

Here's a sorta long list of some songs I've been listening to in the past few weeks that keep me focused. Yes, it's a mess of different songs. You can totally tell what I've been watching/like just by the songs alone. The two at the top when I heard them at full blast in an IMAX theater for the first time literally had me like–– (WHEN I TELL YOU LUDWIG G. MAKES THE BEST MUSIC THAT INSPIRES ME)

Can You Hear The Music - Ludwig Göransson

Quantum Mechanics - Ludwig Göransson

Destroyer of Worlds - Ludwig Göransson

American Prometheus - Ludwig Göransson

Teacher's Pet - Ludwig Göransson, Joseph Shirley

Mando Is Back - Ludwig Göransson

A Walk in the Skies - Joe Hisaishi

Sophie in Exile - Joe Hisaishi

The Boy Who Swallowed a Star - Joe Hisaishi

Deep Sea Pastures - Joe Hisaishi

Mother Sea - Joe Hisaishi

Town by A Cove - Joe Hisaishi

Fujimoto - Joe Hisaishi

Ponyo Flies - Joe Hisaishi

Across the Spider-Verse (Intro) - Daniel Pemberton

Spider-Woman (Gwen Stacy) - Daniel Pemberton

Vulture Meets Culture - Daniel Pemberton

Guggenheim Assemble - Daniel Pemberton

[brookbee]

I know people are either following me because I used to post about Star Trek constantly or because I post about Bowie a lot, so here’s some random David Bowie and Star Trek connections I’ve been collecting for the past year or so. This is purely self-indulgent, but if you find this sort of thing interesting, here you go.

This is from an unpublished interview for Zygote magazine from 1971 where he was discussing the meaning of various songs. The particular song he's talking about here is "The Supermen." In case you don't want to read the full article for context, he mentioned Star Trek to act as a comparison, he was not saying that that was the initial inspiration/meaning.

This ad has song notes that Bowie wrote for the album Hunky Dory. The one of relevance is “Bewlay Brothers,” which is at the bottom of the list. It says, “Another in the series of David Bowie confessions — Star Trek in a Leather Jacket.”

You might be wondering what this means, well Bowie never really gave a consistent answer as to what this song was about. And according to Ken Scott, the producer of the album, Bowie purposefully wrote it to give a song to Americans who were reading too much into things (this was in the era of the Paul McCartney actually died and was replaced conspiracy lol). Bowie did say at different points that it was more or less about his own half-brother, but who knows if he changed his mind about that.

Although as a side note I will say that some of the lyrics sound like they could be describing Star Trek episodes lol

My Life With Bowie: Spider From Mars by Woody Woodmansey (drummer for the Spiders From Mars, Bowie’s band during the Ziggy Stardust era). He’s describing the bar in The Rainbow Room, as they were rehearsing for the most elaborate of the Ziggy Stardust concerts in August of 1972.

Mick Ronson talking about the Ziggy Stardust boots, the clip is from the documentary Beside Bowie: The Mick Ronson Story. Angie, in case people don’t know, was Bowie’s first wife.

Side note about this one though, Bowie compared his own boots to wrestler boots (see image below). But Mick’s shoes weren’t far off from the Star Trek boots.

Book page from Moonage Daydream: The Life and Times of Ziggy Stardust, which was written by David Bowie and photographer Mick Rock.

Bowie in Brussels in 1978 doing (his best attempt at) the Vulcan LLAP salute, photo by Gie Knaeps.

Because I’m me, I’ve been trying to figure out what song he did this during—with certainty I can say it was during the second half of the set after the intermission. That would make it so that they were either songs from Ziggy Stardust or from Station to Station.

My guess (and it really is only a guess) is that it could have been during “TVC15.” When he performed it live he’d often sing “she’s my main creature feature” and sometimes do devil horns with his fingers and whatnot. Seems like a plausible spot, anyhow. The other one is potentially the song “Ziggy Stardust,” but just based on how he usually performed that one, such as where he’d add gestures and how he tended to convey the emotions of the song, I find it more unlikely.

But I wasn’t there and these are literally just guesses. On the off chance someone was there and that they inexplicably remember this, I would love to know.

Gates McFadden, before being Beverley Crusher in Star Trek: The Next Generation, was the choreographer for the film Labyrinth, where of course Bowie played Jareth the Goblin King.

And to avoid possible confusion, she was not the choreographer for "Magic Dance" at least when it came to Bowie's moves, as that was Charles Augin. She was, however, the choreographer for "As The World Falls Down" with the ballroom scene.

Lyrics from one of the Tin Machine albums (Bowie’s band in the late 80s-early 90s, which Bowie wrote most of the lyrics for, minus a few songs).

Additionally Iman, who Bowie met in 1990 and married in 1992, was in Star Trek: The Undiscovered Country as Martia. She was on set filming at least in April of 1991 in LA, as you can see in this filming schedule I found on an auction website. I don’t know how long she was filming for, though.

(Side note, Bowie was in LA at least towards the end of April/beginning May as he talked about how he and Iman saw the riots that happened then. No I’m not saying he visited the set, since for one Shatner says he never met Bowie, but I still think it’s neat he was generally around when she was filming).

And a little snippet from one article (the screenshot is from one of those interview compilation books).

It’s not actually that much in the grand scheme of things and more than anything just shows that Bowie was a fan of the show. It should also be remembered that Star Trek wasn’t ever really cited as a huge influence for him in terms of aesthetic, which is a rather common assumption people make, but I thought that these were fun nonetheless. I’m sure I also missed/forgot stuff, so if I come across more I'll probably add to this later on.