#for me to remember things i need to read a paragraph a day. no more
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im looking at all the amount of stuff i need to learn in a year in order to score high on the exams and go to the university and i already hate it. i hate the process of learning because it is incredibly hard for me. i hate that my memory just doesn't work at most times and like i read things for the 10th time and the second after i remember like. nothing at all. honestly i do not know how i will survive this year. it only gets harder and harder.
#i will never be successful at academia#i have things i love but i am so tired all the time that i can't remember anything#i love learning things but it takes very long for me to process them#and the problem is that i don't have time#like#for me to remember things i need to read a paragraph a day. no more#i hate it so much#i feel so stupid#i don't remember the plot of 99% books ive read#and i still know so little about my interests#adhd
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save me local historical attraction
local historical attraction save me
#In the few days I’ve been gone I’ve applied for about twenty jobs and bookmarked a bunch of used cars and listed 7 items on eBay#Suddenly I’m productive again…#…disturbingly productive in fact#More productive than someone without executive dysfunction. I can clean and organize and read long paragraphs at will#alternating for an hour or two at a time all day long#On the downside I seem to have lost some of my musical ability.#I can’t play through songs I was capable of playing flawlessly just a week ago#I’m making weird unhinged mistakes on the recorder I’ve never made in my 11.5 years of playing#Like hitting the low C so it squeaks and reversing the order in which notes are played#or playing notes that are straight up wrong that I’d never mistake for the correct notes in a hundred years#Also I’ve noticed that when I go into a grocery store I tend to be way more spacey than usual#(staring without blinking at fluorescent lights#having a delayed comprehension of words spoken to me#feeling the need to lean heavily on the cart and walking around aimlessly in kind of a daze etc. etc.)#My speech has been getting progressively worse as well. I know what I mean to say but the words will not come to me#Hopefully I’m not headed towards a meltdown and its horrible week-long hangover lmfao#That would suck ass#Omg I just remembered I have that icepack mask thing#Yeah#gonna use that right now LOL
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for whom good omens is being written
Hey maggots and the rest of the fandom, it's the Good Omens Mascot here. Today I read a post about this tweet:
The accompanying video genuinely made me cry. And I've been thinking about this for a long while, as far back as February, when I saw a lot of conflicting opinions on what people wanted from the third season. It really is true that no matter what you do, some people will be dissatisfied. But what matters is that Neil is writing this for Terry.
And I was reminded of some paragraphs from the Good Omens TV Companion, which I'd read in Amazon's sample excerpt of the book. I know this is a long post, but I really truly do think you all need to read these, I've done my best to select only the most important parts. Here you go:
'His Alzheimer's started progressing harder and faster than either of us had expected,' says Neil, referring to a period in which Terry recognized that despite everything he could no longer write. 'We had been friends for over thirty years, and during that time he had never asked me for anything. Then, out of the blue, I received an email from him with a special request. It read: “Listen, I know how busy you are. I know you don't have time to do this, but I want you to write the script for Good Omens. You are the only human being on this planet who has the passion, love and understanding for the old girl that I do. You have to do this for me so that I can see it." And I thought, “OK, if you put it like that then I'll do it."
'I had adapted my own work in the past, writing scripts for Death: The High Cost of Living and Sandman, but not a lot else was seen. I'd also written two episodes of Doctor Who, and so I felt like I knew what I was doing. Usually, having written something once I'd rather start something new, but having a very sick co-author saying I had to do this?' Neil spreads his hands as if the answer is clear to see. 'I had to step up to the plate.' A pause, then: 'All this took place in autumn 2014, around the time that the BBC radio adaptation of Good Omens was happening,' he continues, referring to the production scripted and co-directed by Dirk Maggs and starring Peter Serafinowicz and Mark Heap. ‘Terry had talked me into writing the TV adaptation, and I thought OK, I have a few years. Only I didn't have a few years,' he says. 'Terry was unconscious by December and dead by March.'
He pauses again. 'His passing took all of us by surprise,' Neil remembers. 'About a week later, I started writing, and it was very sad. The moments Terry felt closest to me were the moments I would get stuck during the writing process. In the old days, when we wrote the novel, I would send him what I'd done or phone him up. And he would say, "Aahh, the problem, Grasshopper, is in the way you phrase the question," and I would reply, "Just tell me what to do!" which somehow always started a conversation. 'In writing the script, there were times I'd really want to talk to Terry, and also places where I'd figure something out and do something really clever, and I would want to share it with him. So, instead, I would text Terry's former personal assistant, Rob Wilkins, now his representative on Earth. It was the nearest thing I had.'
(...) As Neil himself recognizes, this is an adaptation built upon the confidence that comes from three decades of writing for page and screen. But for all the wisdom of experience, he found that above all one factor guided him throughout the process. 'Terry isn't here, which leaves me as the guardian of the soul of the story,' he explains. 'It's funny because sometimes I found myself defending Terry's bits harder or more passionately than I would defend my own bits. Take Agnes Nutter,' he says, referring to what has become a key scene in the adaptation in which the seventeenth-century author of the book of prophecies foretelling the coming of the Antichrist is burned at the stake. ‘It was a huge, complicated and incredibly expensive shoot, with bonfires built and primed to explode as well as huge crowds in costume. It had to feel just like an English village in the 1640s, and of course everyone asked if there was a cheap way of doing it. 'One suggestion was that we could tell the story using old-fashioned woodcuts and have the narrator take us through what happened, but I just thought, “No”. Because I had brought aspects of the story like Crowley and the baby swap along to the mix, and Terry created Agnes Nutter. So, if I had cut out Agnes then I wouldn't be doing right by the person who gave me this job. Terry would've rolled over in his grave.'
And, finally, this paragraph:
"Once again, Neil cites the absence of his co-writer as his drive to ensure that Good Omens translated to the screen and remained true to the original vision. 'Terry's last request to me was to make this something he would be proud of. And so that has been my job.'"
I think that's so heartwrenchingly beautiful, and so I wanted you all to read this, too, just in case you (like me) don't have the Good Omens TV Companion. It adds another layer of depth and emotion to this already complex and amazing story that we all know and love.
Share this post, if you can, please, so that more people can read these excerpts :")
Tagging @neil-gaiman, @fuckyeahgoodomens and @orpiknight, even if you've definitely read these before :)
#good omens#neil gaiman#sir terry pratchett#good omens show#good omens fandom#good omens mascot#weirdly specific but ok#asmi
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Not my fault
pairing: sub!Felix x dom!fem!Reader
tw: jealousy ; smut ; mutual masturbation (m!rec) ; mommy kink ; cock slapping ; orgasm denial ; begging ; overstimulation ; there are safe-words between Felix and reader but they don’t use them
w/c: 922
a/n: this is just a thought I had about Felix a couple of days ago remembering those smut audios of whiny lixie that make me damn hot. and wanted to share it with you. This is literally just pure smut, so I had no idea how to title it lmao. You’ll understand the title reading one of the paragraphs; literally, it’s just one paragraph (not that the whole thing is that long lol), the rest is smut, but it makes sense anyways, so.
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT Felix didn’t think it would end like this. With him sitting on the edge of your bed and you kneeling between his legs, your hand moving skilfully up and down his length.
His eyes are filled with tears that haven’t yet fallen. They’re tears of pleasure, or perhaps irritation. He doesn’t even know.
His cock is hot, wet, and it feels almost swollen. Pre-cum drips from its tip, which you occasionally collect and spread along its length.
“S-sweetheart…” his voice is low and trembling, but he doesn’t use his deep voice —it wouldn’t come out as sexy and dominant as he’d like, only desperate.
You interrupt him immediately, “Oh no, don’t try to sweet-talk me now,” you tighten your grip around his cock, and he whines at both the gesture and your words. “You won’t come until I let you.”
A sob escapes his throat, and he feels tears might start streaming from his eyes any moment.
His moans become louder as he feels that immense pleasure building up in his abdomen, only to be taken away just before it completely takes over. You remove your hand from his cock, and he cries out, pushing his hips up into the air instinctively with heavy breaths, feeling his release slipping away.
His mascara is ruined because of his eyes that had been closed too tightly, and now there are black dots on his cheeks above his freckles.
As soon as he lowers his hips onto the bed, you reattach your hand to his cock, and he moans obscenely and thrusts up into your palm, but you detach it after a few strokes.
“P-please,” he whimpers looking at you, “Please, mommy please,” he chokes on a sob.
You give his dick a light slap, making him gasp, “Stop talking and take it,” you start fisting his cock vigorously again, and Felix throws his head back, closing his eyes and feeling small tears forming at the outer corners of his eyes.
Breathy moans leave his throat. His face contorts from the slight pain that the tight grip of your hand causes on his sensitive cock.
When he feels his climax approaching, he expects you to remove your hand, but that doesn’t happen. Instead, you warn him.
“You won’t come until I allow you, understood? And stop being whiny.” Felix feels like crying. He squirms to escape your touch and tries everything to hold it in. But it’s difficult after all the times he’s been denied to come.
“Y/n— mommy please I can’t, please stop—” he wants to be good, he really wants to; in fact, he keeps his hands in place without moving them to stop you or, earlier, to touch himself, just as you told him; but it’s too hard for him right now. His hands clench into fists, gripping the sheets in his palms, and he takes deep breaths, trying to resist as much as possible and hoping that you’ll allow him to come soon.
Because he promised you he would be a good boy for you, after you two got home and you got angry because he talked to a girl who was hitting on him. “I didn’t realise, I promise you.” he said, but that didn’t sweep away your jealousy, so you forced him to stay still where he is and take what you give him because next time he needs to pay more attention to the people he talks to.
But it’s too much for him.
“Fuck…” he breathes, “I’m… I’m so sorry, I can’t,” the tight knot in his stomach grows tighter as pre-cum oozes from his tip, caught by your palm and used as lube, your hand not stopping its movements. “Fuck, fuck, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I can’t hold it, please mommy—” he cries and his hips begin to move back and forth, thrusting into your palm.
“Lix…” you try to get his attention but he’s too lost in pleasure to really pay attention or answer you.
“Mmmmh fuck I’m cumming, fuckfuckfuck oh my god— fuck mommy, I’m cumming—” he whimpers openly, his voice breaking. His head is thrown back while his hips keep moving and you milk him dry. Ropes of cum spurt in your hand and shirt —the only thing you’re wearing—, and a little also finishes on your chin
Lewd moans leave his lips, and he would be embarrassed if he weren’t fucking coming after being denied for so long. Other people probably heard it, but he couldn’t care less at the moment.
His body trembles as he comes down from his high.
You detach your hand and wipe it on the sheets.
“You can’t even follow a simple rule, can you?” you scold him. He tries to steady his breathing, but you don’t give him the chance. You climb onto his lap, and he looks at you with wet eyes.
"Do you think I’ll let you get away with it? You need to be punished for not following the rules."
When your words sink into his head, he looks at you with alarmed eyes, “Y-Y/n…”
Suddenly, you grasp his cock in your hand again, making him flinch and gasp from the overstimulation. You align him with your warm and wet entrance, then sink down on it, moaning as you’re finally filled. Felix groans in pain and grips your hips tightly, as if trying to keep you in place and not let you move.
“Now I’ll ride you, and you won’t move or let a word out of your mouth, understood?”.
#stray kids#lee felix#felix x reader#felix x reader smut#sub skz#sub felix#stray kids smut#felix smut#felix hard hours
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THE KID AT THE BACK
-theories
Did i sit down and analyze this game for 3 hours straight because I'm hyperfixated on it? Yes, yes i did.
This isnt proof-read and long as hell so buckle up for a joyride, y'all (by the way, there's another TKATB fanfic in the works as we speak and also some fanart, though I'm not sure wether to post it or not... well, we'll see!)
Some of these might not seem all too thought through (??) Since i was kind of grasping at straws here (and it was like 2 a.m. lmao), so if y'all have questions/need me to elaborate or have theories of your own feel free to share!
(There's some inspiration here from other people in the Fandom, most of them from the community section on itch.io which isnt available any more)
Sol knows the player longer than we think
My theory ->
-Fantasia stated that one of her 3 biggest inspirations was the game AMNESIA
-In amnesia the mc loses her memory in an accident. One of the love interests is her childhood friend and also the only yandere in the game (at least from what i could find out)
-She already drew Sol with Forget-me-nots and in the valentines day special the boquet sol gave us also contained Forget-me-nots
-In the book (this gallery thing with all the cutscene images) on the top of sols page is written 'Remember Me' which implies we forgot about him
-Annabel Lee Poem:
+The poem contains the line 'I was a child, she was a child' which furthermore implies that Sol and MC knew each other as kids
+Except for the last two paragraphs the poem is written in past tense, which could be talking about sols POV with us
Perhaps MC had an accident, as mentioned above, and MCs father (highborn kinsmen) tore MC away from Sol to the countryside
+The poem mentions angels killing annabel lee which could also mean something like this: MC doesnt die but, however, gets amnesia. That way, the MC sol knows and loves is dead because MC no longer exists the way MC did before (also the fact that she forgot him)
Some people theorize MCs farm is near the sea and that is the reason why sol hates the sea (i believe the city is near the sea and that's where MC 'died' (maybe MC almost drowned and got Amnesia that way?(apparently its possible for people who almost drowned to get amnesia)))
+"The speaker loves annabel lee to the point of death and even after death" (MCs view how to interpret the poem) (-> Sol loves MC to 'death' (the day they got amnesia) and even after 'death' (after MC got amnesia and 'died' in a sense, as a person))
-sol says he thinks death is beautiful, i didn't really know what to make of that, the only conclusion i came to would be: If MC actually did drown and lose their memories due to that, sol might have been involved in MC drowning (or at least blames himself for that) but viewed MC losing their memories as a 'second chance' with them, since they can start from anew (perhaps he made some mistakes with MC in the past which all eventually built up to MC drowning (it could be that we were already teens at that point)
-sol states afterwards: "But people refused them to let them be together, as if fate refuses them to die together" which supports my theory that MC was taken from Sol by someone (most likely the father after he witnessed Sols behaviour and his final straw was MC drowning because of him) the 'let them die together' could mean something like their relationship 'dying' and then starting over again or perhaps he tried to die with them, who knows (all this is really far fetched i am grasping at straws here lmao)
-in a really quick scene right after he mutters "I'm won't let it happen to me... not again" (some people view this as Sol already lost someone he loved dearly but it could also be the MC who was taken from him
ANOTHER THING I COULD IMAGINE -ABOUT DYING TOGETHER COULD BE:
MC almost died, Sol went after them but they were already saved, Sol just didnt witness that and almost died himself/wanted to die but was saved from that by someone (maybe hyugo? Though, he is an exchange student)
-Another theory on hyugo. It's canon that he is an exchange student, however i do believe he is from this city (since he knows about the hierarchy and his brother Geo apparently is no exchange student), moved away and is now back for business (relating to his 'mafia schemes' but under the disguise of being an exchange student)
Maybe he moved around the same time MC left or some time after that
-Hyugo mentions on the rooftop that we remind him of someone and the pronoun of the person he refers to changes based on the one the player picked for the MC in the beginning. It could mean we remind him of someone else entirely, someone maybe not even related to sol (though i doubt that) or to the MC and he knows them from back then but maybe thought MC died as well and cant believe they actually survived (maybe he want to spike MCs memory by doing that)
-A dream within a dream: MC mentions that this poem, at least to them, talks about the uncertainty about something, like life (which could also imply that they might be uncertain about some things in their mife because they simply forgot them due to amnesia)
-THE SECOND DAY 'THE KINGDOM'
+some people think the kingdom (by the sea) refers to MCs farm and implies its near the sea, however in day 2 we find out about the hierarchy in the city and considering my theory that MC actually is from the city and almost drowned there, i believe the kingdom by the sea is the city. MC does mention in the beginning that they lived on the farm ever since they were a child, however, it could very well be that we moved there right after the incident that caused MCs amnesia (if MC was akid when it happened it would really matter because then it would still fit with the fact that they lived there since theyre a child, however if they were already a teen, perhaps the father moved there immediately to cut off all ties to Sol and told us we have always lived there on top of that (considering the previous theories)
The father also didnt seem fond of the idea that we go to the city (the fact that he is is indebted to someone from high class could imply he might be from there), that could be because he knows how dangerous the city is (and how we could potentially meet sol again)
-maybe the reason for the debt is that MCs father suddenly bought the farm land to get us away from the city as soon as possible and had to take on a loan from one of his contacts in the city
-we know that this is MCs last year at the university, if we say shes minimum 22, and was already in the school for 4 years that would mean she got there at 18. If the 'drowning theory' events took place when MC was a teen (like 16 maybe) it would explain why the father was indebted (i also think 2 years is an believable timeframe a higher class person would give someone to pay off their debt)
-at the end of day 2 sol says he's sorry for leaving us and "i dont know what I'll do if..." which supports my theory that he lost us once (and he blames himself as the reason (again, MC drowning?))
-inspirations:
+ https://www.tumblr.com/sweet-herbal-peach-tea/746168072919023616/tkatb-theories?source=share
+ https://itch.io/t/3749638/whats-the-secret-between-hyugo-and-sol
Another theory:
Sleepy Hollow and The kid at the back
-In the nicknames the boys have for MC (fantasia released that on twitter and tumblr) sol calls MC pumpkin (like the pumpkin of the headless horseman (also in the gallery there is a pumpkin above the book)) and Crowe calls them '(star-crossed) lover'
Star-crossed lovers are people who love each other but can't be together
I believe this might imply that, even though Crowe is the second romance option, MC can't be with him no matter what they do
I also found out that the nickname is a phrase from romeo and juliet (which furthermore implies crowe will die)
We know what romeo and juliet is about: romeo and juliet cant be together because their families are enemies (some people believe Crowes father might be them man MCs father owes money to(i personally doubt thah though but it would support this romeo and juliet situation)) and at the end romeo thinks that juliet died, kills himself and then juliet turns out to not be dead but kills herself after seeing romeo dead
-Jericho Ichabod is a character from Sleepy Hollow, along Katrina (the FMC who owns a farm (what a coincidence)) and Brom Bones (its implied he is the headless horseman). In the story, jericho courts Katrina at a party, she rejects him and on his way home the headless horseman kills him (in the scene where Sol accompanies MC to class he says 'it's always been you ichabod' which could furthermore imply that crowe or his family have something do to with the fact that Sol and MC arent together)
In the library scene with Crowe he asks MC about their opinion on marie Antoinette and when MC says something negative about her, his reaction seems kind of strange. MC also brought a book about torture devices and execution methods and in that book is a picture of 'The Executioner' and he has scars on his arms, wears a mask and a chained collar. This correlates with some of sols features. He has scars on his arms (as seen in one of fantasias drawings), wears a chocker (he also wears a mask when he breaks into MCs room but that's really something anyone who does that would do). This implies even more that he will kill crowe.
#tkatb sol#tkatb vn#the kid at the back#solivan brugmansia#Crowe#jericho ichabod#Crowe ichabod#sol brugmansia#yandere visual novel#yandere#yandere vn#tkatb#tkatb theory#tkatb crowe
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amnesia - part 4 (ona batlle x reader, alexia putellas x reader)
part 1 / part 2 / part 3
warnings: none!
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“Well, what’s the story of our friendship? Is there anything I should know about there? Any drama that happened, any secrets? Please, no more secrets,” you said with a wry smile.
Alexia took a deep breath.
“We became friends pretty quickly, when you moved to Barcelona. You’re a very easy person to be friends with, an easy person to like,” Alexia said. “You spent a lot of time with me, and a lot of time with Ona. At the start, I… I was jealous, actually.”
“Of me?” you asked.
She shrugged. “Maybe? Of Ona, of both of you, I think.”
“Why?”
She took a breath, picking at her nails. “Like I said, you’re a very easy person to like. You’re very pretty, you’re amazing on the pitch, you’re kind and funny.”
Her words hung in the air for a minute.
“You liked me? As in, romantically?” you asked, brows furrowed in confusion.
“Si,” she said, looking down at her hands. Her cheeks were pink.
“Your hair- it used to be pink, right?” you said suddenly, images of a pink ponytail flashing to mind.
“I- si, did you remember?” she asked, looking up at you.
“Yeah,” you smiled. “Um, do you still like me? Like that?”
Alexia shrugged noncommittally, not meeting your eye, then sighed. “Si - but nothing has to change. I do not want anything to change between us. We are very good friends, I would never want to lose that.”
“Okay, then. Nothing will change,” you agreed. “Although, I don’t really remember much about what it was like before, so for all I know this could be entirely different to how things used to be. It’s kind of weird, not really knowing what I’m like or what my life was like. Really weird, actually.”
Alexia, who had been quiet since her admission, brightened up. “I have an idea!” she said, sitting up straight. “What if I show you what your life was like before? I can take you to your favourite places, show you what you usually would do!”
“That sounds great!”
“It will have to be after training,” she said, frowning. “Will you be okay during the day on your own?”
You waved her off. “I’ll manage. It’ll give me time to go through everything here, try to remember more.”
By the time Alexia left for the night (after repeatedly asking if you were sure that you’d be okay on your own, and if you needed anything to call her, or anyone else from the team), you were exhausted, both physically and mentally. Despite how tired you were, getting into what was supposedly your own bed felt wrong, and you spent the night twisting and turning, unable to get comfortable.
Still, waking up and seeing something other than the hospital walls felt like a step in the right direction. You spent the morning going through everything you could find in your apartment that could give you clues about who you were. A journal from when you’d first moved to Barcelona (that you’d only managed to write three entries in before giving up) described your first days with the team, how nervous you’d been and how welcomed Alexia made you feel, and how you were so intimidated by Ona and how attractive she was but that she was so friendly to you, immediately putting you at ease. A paragraph about Alexia made you pause, the way you had written almost made it sound like you had a crush on her, the way you described her, raving about how good she was at football, how nice she was, how pretty. It was followed by another paragraph about Ona, and how amazing she was, and you rolled your eyes at your past self.
Reading about Ona felt weird, and you put the journal back, trying to push the thoughts of her out of your mind. Still, when you got hungry you were reminded of her once again, the fridge full of food that she had prepared for you. You pulled a covered bowl out to find a handwritten note on top, telling you what food was inside, with a smiley face and a heart. You told yourself that the funny feeling in your stomach was purely due to being hungry, nothing else, but you carefully left the note on the counter, not wanting to throw it away.
By the time Alexia arrived you were starting to feel a little stir crazy, your leg making it hard to move around.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” you told her as you opened the door.
“Hello to you, too,” she laughed.
“Yes, hi. I miss going outside, and I’m all ready for our trip!” you told her, waving your crutches in the air.
“Woah, okay, I can see that!” she ducked as you waved your crutches a little too close to her head. “Okay, the first place we are going to go is a café nearby. It is your favourite. Usually you walk but I think we will drive.”
“I guess that makes sense,” you said, slumping a little. You’d been looking forward to moving a little, your body feeling tense from inactivity. “You’re too sensible.”
“Thank you,” she nodded, the corners of her mouth twitching upwards as she suppressed a smile.
It didn’t take long for you to arrive at the café. You took a deep breath as you hobbled inside, and the smell of coffee and fresh pastries filling your lungs. It instantly felt familiar, and you were drawn to a seat by the window.
Alexia watched as you moved to sit down, smiling. “That’s your favourite spot. You always sit there.”
“Yeah,” you said. “I like to watch the people going past.”
She raised an eyebrow, and you cocked your head, then realised what you’d said. “Huh. I don’t know where that came from, but it feels right.”
You watched Alexia as she ordered at the counter, thinking about what she’d told you last night. You weren’t sure how to feel - remembering her words made your stomach flutter, but you weren’t sure why. When she sat down, a drink for each of you and a pastry on a plate, you felt a sudden wave of emotion.
“This is my favourite, right? This is what I always get,” you asked, and she nodded, smiling shyly. “You remembered?”
“Of course, chiqui,” she said.
As you ate, you talked about football, which seemed like a safe topic. Your mind kept wandering though, thinking about the way that Alexia had known where to take you. She knew your favourite café, your usual order, she had known all the right things to say to you. You felt your cheeks warming up as you realised how much she cared about you, your old journal entry coming to mind, and you caught yourself wondering why nothing had ever happened between you.
“You seem distracted,” Alexia said, interrupting your stream of consciousness. “What are you thinking about?”
“Oh, uh, not much,” you quickly said. “Just about training, when I’ll be able to go back.”
“Ah,” she said, frowning. “I am not sure. Maybe you can ask the doctor on Friday?”
You nodded, your cheeks still pink. As you reached for your drink, your phone vibrated on the table.
[Ona:] Please can we meet, and talk? Tomorrow?
#hannah writes fics#ona batlle x reader#ona batlle#ona batlle imagine#ona batlle fanfic#alexia putellas x reader#alexia x reader#alexia putellas imagine#alexia putellas#woso#woso x reader#woso fanfics#woso imagine
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ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — MIYA OSAMU x FEM READER
On a bad day, Onigiri Miya becomes your new comfort restaurant. Not only is the food good, but the man who takes your orders is always kind. You think the Miya you’ve been venting to on the phone is the same Miya who shows up at your door to deliver all of your orders.
It’s too bad you don’t know there’s two of them.
wc — 2k
tags — fluff, romcom, miscommunication, miserable corporate girl x small business owner who teaches her joy
The email doesn’t even do you the courtesy of being short. They make you read through two whole paragraphs before you get to the point of it all in the final sentence.
Your termination is effectively immediately.
You sit back in your chair to allow yourself a moment to take it in. It’s…not terrible, all things considered.
You get to leave this job that you hate. They’ll pay you severance. You have enough savings to be comfortable for the next few months.
It might even a blessing.
But it still doesn’t feel good. You worked hard to land this, and now you’ll have to start all over again. Change is always hard, especially when you haven’t asked for it.
You look at the clock. It’s currently 8:30 in the morning. You’re giving yourself exactly twenty four hours to wallow, and then it’s back to business.
First things first - a good meal. Food always make everything better, and you really deserve something special today. For a moment, you entertain the idea of calling your friends over to get breakfast somewhere fancy, but then you remember -
They’re all at work.
Where you would be, if you hadn’t just been let go.
That does sting a little, so maybe you’re not as okay as you thought you were. Hurriedly pushing those thoughts to the side in favor of scrolling through your options, a plain blue banner catches your eye.
Onigiri Miya, it reads.
Japanese comfort food. Family owned.
When you click on the link, it takes you to a page that’s as simple as it’s name. It’s just a menu and a series of pictures, but it’s what you need right now. Your head hurts. You don’t have the capacity to deal with anything more.
You want something straightforward and easy to digest. Onigiri Miya it is, then.
“‘Miya speakin’. What can I get ya?”
It’s a pleasantly accented voice. When you rattle off your order, you suddenly find it a little less pleasant after he says, “Er. Ya sure?”
This is some shoddy customer service.
“I’m placing the order, aren’t I?”
“Those two don’t normally go together,” he says. “I’d suggest number nine and number thirteen instead. Trust me.”
You don’t trust him, actually. This is probably just an upselling tactic he tries on every customer, but you’re not in the mood to argue. You had thought when you called a family owned restaurant, you’d be speaking to some kindly old grandma who might let you cry and vent into the receiver for just a little while, not whoever this is.
At least the delivery is quick.
A series of sharp raps on your door alerts you to the arrival. You pull it open to a man in a baseball cap and a uniform with onigiris on both. Their merch is cute. You’d wear it unironically.
Underneath the cap, yellow blonde hair peeks out. On his shirt, a name tag reads Miya.
Instantly, you feel a little worse for thinking poorly of him. Your bad attitude from work is no reason to take it out on this hardworking entrepreneur who’s running a one man show by himself.
“Here ya go,” he says, thrusting a paper bag at you. “Eat it while it’s hot!”
And then he’s off, scampering back down the stairs instead of taking the elevator even though you’re several floors up. You suppose there’s a reason he has those thighs.
That the food is good is an understatement.
Your former coworker Aiko used to work in food advertising before she pivoted. She loved to talk about how fake the industry was during lunch, both in terms of people and actual product. It’s through her that you know that half of the food in commercials aren’t actually food, but styrofoam and plastic painted to look appetizing.
Onigiri Miya, in contrast, doesn’t look perfect. Appetizing, certainly, but not like a work of art. It just looks like what it is - a ball of rice with special ingredients for flavor.
So why are you crying as you finish your first onigiri and reach for the next?
It’s been so long since you had a home cooked meal. You’re trying not to be maudlin, but you can almost taste the love that went into everything you’re eating. Imagining Miya carefully packing each triangular ball of rice by hand with a smile has you reaching for another, then another, until eventually the entire order is gone before you know it.
Exhausted from crying and eating, you sink into your couch with a satisfied sigh and fall asleep.
It’s 1:30 P.M. by the time you rise again, feeling a little better. Sleep really was the cure to all evils. Now you have 20 hours left to indulge yourself as much as possible.
You’re not in the mood to turn off your brain by binge watching a show. You want to do something. You want to use your hands to craft something from scratch.
Learning how to make onigiri could be a start. A quick run to the grocery store and the first recipe that popped up on Google later, you have a half formed, crumbling mound of rice with pickled radish shoved inside. If you squint, it looks almost like what you got from Onigiri Miya this morning.
Who are you kidding?
That’s an insult to Miya’s craft. He put so much care into each dish - you can hardly compare your shoddy workmanship to his. There’s only one thing to do. You have to taste the real thing again to see where you went wrong.
“Miya. What d'ya want to order?”
“I’d like-“
“Hold up. Didn’t ya call this morning?”
Flustered, you nearly fumble your phone. You’re breathless as you clutch is tighter and bring it back to your ear. “Yeah,” you admit sheepishly. “Is that bad?”
“I mean, yeah, a little,” Miya says. “I appreciate the business but ya shouldn’t be eatin’ onigiri for two meals a day. Yer going to make yerself sick.”
“It’s a special day,” you tell him. “I got laid off.”
In the resounding silence that follows, you have ample time to berate yourself for sharing that. What is wrong with you? Why would you say that? He’s a stranger that you’ve randomly dumped your misery onto and you’re sure he’s -
“Ouch,” he says. “‘Kay, I’ll make an exception just for today. What’s yer order?”
Miya shows up at your door promptly. He’s ditched the cap so his yellow hair is on full display. It looks like he’s run his hands through it. It sticks up at odd angles.
“Here ya go,” he says, almost distractedly as he hands you your bag. “Enjoy.”
You bring the bag inside and start rummaging through it immediately, excited to try new flavors you hadn’t gotten the first time around. Out comes the four onigiri you had ordered, a cup of miso soup, and…
A little takeout container of sushi with a cat’s face drawn on it. A speech bubble next to its head reads, “You can do it, meow!”
Laughter echoes around your apartment. To your surprise, the world feels less daunting already. You hadn’t realized how quiet you had been the entire morning. Miya’s the only person you’ve spoken to the entire day, and even that was a quick and whispered thank you. Your throat almost hurts with the force of your giggles after disuse all morning, but it’s a good kind of pain.
Onigiri Miya, family owned. You can almost feel the warmth of an embrace around you as you bite into your steaming onigiri, still a little too hot.
All too soon, it becomes a tradition for you to order Onigiri Miya as your comfort meal. It doesn’t even have to be a bad day - you actively try to avoid associating things you like with painful feelings by using them as treats for hard days. Instead, Onigiri Miya is anything from a reward for getting to the second round of interviews or a celebration for successfully starting a new hobby.
Onigiri has become your favorite food, and the person on the other line who takes your orders and even spares a few minutes to chat with you when it’s not too busy has quickly become someone irreplaceable in your life.
You think you might need to redownload Tinder if you’re this attached to the man who fulfills your onigiri orders.
Even though you know it’s strange, you can’t bring yourself to sever your connection. Miya is warm and kind, and you’ve quickly come to think of him as a friend. It’s a culmination of lots of little moments piling up over time.
When you had forced yourself to go on your first date after a while, determined to get back out there, it had crashed and burned catastrophically. Onigiri Miya had been there to pick you back up. Miya had even recognized the sniffles in your voice that you were fighting and drawn you another little cat.
The next time you had ordered, before you could even tell him what onigiri you wanted, Miya had asked you what happened last week. Maybe that’s just how family owned businesses are. They actually care about their customers. Enough so to play therapist to the girl that orders from you every week.
Then there was the time you had gotten your first call back for a job application, and you had called Miya to celebrate.
Well, not Miya. You didn’t have his personal number, but you had called Onigiri Miya, which is more or less the same thing at the moment. This time, he had been the one to be interrupted as you blurred out your good news.
You can almost hear the smile in his voice when he says, “What’d I tell ya? I knew ya could do it.”
There’s no container of sushi with a hand drawn cat this time, but there is a little note written on a napkin. It’s accompanied by an origami star.
You don’t cry, exactly, but your eyes water up as you read the note. He’s proud of you. The star is to wish you luck on your continued journey. The knowledge that he’s proud - his own words - fuels you as you keep applying and interviewing, never letting rejection stop you.
He’s just the guy that takes your onigiri order, but at some point, he’s become someone special to you.
He cares. He spends an extra two minutes on the phone with you to ask about your day even when you can hear the sounds of a busy environment in the background. He remembers your accomplishments and failures. Whether you fall or rise, he’s there with you every step of the way.
Sometimes, you get a fluttery feeling in your stomach when he laughs at you, calling you silly for whatever mistake you’re relying to him. You miss his voice when you don’t have an occasion to call, and when something happens, your first thought is always to tell him about it.
Maybe he feels the same way, because the next time he comes to deliver your order, he tells you, “We’ve known each other long enough, ya order every week. I don’t like being called Miya. My name’s Atsumu.”
Or maybe not, because he never treats you in person the way he does on the phone. There’s no spark of connection, no bright laughter, no willingness to linger, to stay, to listen.
Perhaps he’s just shy. In that case, you’re willing to take what he’s offered you and make the first move.
The next time you order, you end the call with, “Thanks, Atsumu. I’ll talk to-“
There’s an abrupt interruption from the other end immediately.
“What’d ya call me?” His voice sounds funny.
“…Atsumu?”
Even when you’re confused, the sound of his belly deep laughter makes you feel all shivery from your toes to your head. It makes your joints feel weak, like they can’t support you, and you ease into the dining chair as you wait patiently for whatever laughing fit that’s gripped him to pass.
“Atsumu,” he repeats, with another snort of laughter. “Atsumu, really?”
“What?”
“Ya know Onigiri Miya’s a five minute walk from yer place, right?”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“Come here,” he says, and hangs up.
When you enter Onigiri Miya, you get instant whiplash. There’s two of them!
You’re just wondering if you should get your eyes checked when you start seeing the subtle differences. They have different hair colors, and their eyes are just the subtlest shades apart.
The most discerning difference is the way the one with grey hair is looking at you.
“There’s the girl of the hour,” Atsumu says. “I’ll leave ya to it.”
When Atsumu leaves, Miya gestures for you to sit at the bar in front of him. He’s still packing onigiri.
“I’m a little hurt, ya know. Can’t believe ya mistook me for my twin.”
“It was an accident!” You protest. “How was I supposed to know?”
“I’m teasin’ ya,” he says, laughing. “Yer so easy to rile up. Remember this, okay? I’m Osamu. The nicer brother.”
“I heard that,” Atsumu yells from the back.
“Atsumu’s just the delivery guy,” he says. There’s a twinkle in his eye. You don’t think it’s that funny, but you like seeing him mirthful. “I’d rather make the food than deal with the people, so he does it.”
“Am I part of the people?”
He gives you a look.
“Stop fishing for compliments,” he says, and your cheeks grow warm with delight. “Ya know ya aren’t.”
“Here,” he says, sliding you a napkin with a series of numbers and a hand drawn picture of a cat. “I’ve been meaning to do this for a while.”
By the cat’s head, the speech bubble reads, “Miya Osamu’s personal number.” The cat is winking at you.
“Is this…?”
He smiles at you. “Stop clogging up the line cause ya miss me-“
“I don’t-“
He ignores you. “I got a business to run, ya know? Just call me next time.”
Then, he leans over the bar. He’s too close. Your cheeks feel warm under his attention as he whispers to you, “I’ll make something just for ya, compliments of the chef.”
Trying to recover, you swallow to bring moisture to your dry mouth. You’re trying to be playful when you say, “It’s a date, then?”
He looks at you with a hint of a smile. “It is.”
#sera writes#miya osamu x reader#osamu x reader#haikyuu x reader#hq x reader#miya osamu fluff#hq fluff#haikyuu fluff
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From Desires to Demo: How to Write a Good Demo for your Visual Novel
I'm deciding I want to expand on some topics in longer, fuller-length posts based on points I made in this general VN development post.
There is a problem that players have expressed to me about visual novel demos, especially in horror/romance/yandere circles these days: they are not demos at all. Rather, they feel like introductions to the characters and the setting, and nothing happens at all. No one wants to have to go find out everything good about your game by going to your Tumblr and going through 10+ months of asks to get themselves hyped up for your game. Most people are not going to do that. They will instead play your demo and go "this isn't enough for me to come back to" and never think about it again.
How, then, do you get people playing your demo and being excited for the full game? This is my personal guide on how to make a compelling visual novel demo.
In case you've never heard of me, I'm Kat, also known as catsket. I have a Bachelor of Fine Arts in Game Design. I've been making games for nearly 5 years, and I've been doing visual novels more "professionally" for 2. You may know me for Art Without Blood, 10:16, God is in the Radio, or Fatal Focus. I'm here to help you make your first visual novel, or, perhaps, improve on what you've already made.
What is the purpose of a demo?
A demo is short or a demonstration. Your job is to demonstrate a portion of your game to players. In more "traditional" games, a demo typically takes place in a very tightly-constricted space that is meant to show off how the game feels. Maybe this is the first few levels of a platformer that showcases the general atmosphere and gameplay of the game.
We aren't making action and adventure games in explorable spaces. We are making visual novels. Most visual novel demos just showcase a small portion of the game, maybe the first few scenes.
What your demo should have is this:
A general vibe for your game. You're writing a psychological horror game. Give me a taste of that! Show me a bit of the gore, a bit of the horror.
A sense of urgency. A lot of demos I've played and discarded have been discarded because the game itself does not give me a motivation
An established plot. What is going to happen in the future? Why am I in this world?
In general, think of your game as the back cover of a book. That's where the hook that draws you in to read it. Just give me a proper taste of your game!
There are cases in traditional games where things are hidden from the player in demos (let's all remember MGS2) and where things are changed in from the demo to the final product. That's perfectly okay! You are not obligated to update your demo unless you find gamebreaking bugs and other issues. If things change from the demo to the final product, let your players be surprised and intrigued by these changes!
I can make this a list of do's and don'ts:
Before writing your demo...
Do: Outline, plan, and everything else.
Unless you're blessed by Mnemosyne herself, you need to outline where your story is going to go.
When starting a project, I write a 1-2 page document that has this information:
Name of the game
The target audience
The genre and moods
A paragraph summary of the game
1-2 sentences describing main characters and their roles
Write a short scene that captures the essence of the game
Write a basic outline. You don't need to fit everything in and outline it all, but give yourself an idea. A beginning, a middle, a climax, and an end. Some people just write the start and the finish, and then the middle gets all muddled and convoluted.
While writing your demo....
Do: Make it clear how the choices will impact the game
Visual novels are a medium where player choices affect the game. Make sure those choices actually matter. They don't all have to, of course. They might matter later in the game, but you should at least try to write an example of how a choice may matter.
For example, in Art Without Blood's new demo, certain choices mean you meet the characters in a different order and experience different sides of them.
Having a certain amount of a sanity stat will cause characters to give you some flavor text.
Here's a very simple idea: if you're running your game on a "love points" or other points system, you can make it so if player gets 10 points with love interest, get a different scene. It shows that your choices are impactful. Just let players have a taste of the consequences of their actions.
Don't: Character dump.
Many demos I have played were just character dumps. This means using the demo just to introduce to us the characters but not giving them room to truly show their personalities or their attachments to the problem.
For example, I played a game recently that had the player complaining about their living situation, showing us the characters in the same living complex, showed off the yandere, and then had the player deal with an annoying, evil boss. That sounds like lots of games, right? And that doesn't sound very fun, does it?
Do: Ground the player in the world
Try to immerse your player character in your world. I want to read like I'm part of it. What is our purpose? If we are a stranger, how can you immerse us in a world so far removed from ours?
Do it slowly, and do it with necessity. You don't necessarily want an exposition dump either.
Establish the world, establish the conflict, establish why they got into this conflict, and leave us off with a reason to come back.
Don't: Make your players have to visit other sites to get important information
Your ask blogs or other social medias should contain supplemental material that keeps players engaged, but it should not be a place where you should go "well, actually, in the demo, x y and z should have happened but it didn't."
Try not to spoil your game on your socials. What's the point of playing if I can just read it all on your blog?
I should learn about the plot and the characters from the game itself. I should not have to get a sense from your blog about a character because they were so dry in the demo.
Obviously, this isn't to say you need to include everything about a character in your demo. But we need to get a sense of personality. I shouldn't have to go to Tumblr to find that personality.
Do: Ask for help
Making a game on your own, especially for the first time, is scary. It's okay to ask for help. It's okay to get people to help you out with parts you aren't so familiar with. It doesn't make you any less of a developer. A lot of people need some degree of help. There is nothing wrong with that.
Don't: Start your marketing until you know you can finish the demo
I've seen lots of demos that have been in the works for years. It can be disappointing for fans and demotivating for the developer to have an idea, tell the world, and then not see a demo for a long time. This is especially the case when money is involved, but it's still irresponsible to promise a product and never deliver it. Be honest about the status of projects and your life.
Do: Outline content warnings properly
It is up to the player to decide if they think they're capable and ready to play your game. Make sure to outline your content warnings. Cover the basics, and feel free to leave an extended warnings list in your game or on your game page for specifics.
Content warnings are usually things like blood/violence, profanity, sexual content, etc. Trigger warnings typically get into specific things, like suicide, dentists, or religious trauma. Think of content warnings like the ERSB.
Put a splash screen before the game starts that showcase the content warnings and a place to find trigger warnings.
Don't: Pull back punches with what your characters are capable of
It's fiction. It doesn't necessarily mean you support your characters being crazy stalkers. Know the audience you want to write for, and don't feel a need to cower. Let them be filthy. Let them get their hands deep into someone's chest cavity and rip a body apart.
What I'm trying to say is you really shouldn't tone down what you think your characters are capable of because you're afraid of making fans sad or upset because pookie isn't acting the way they thought pookie acted in their head. It's your character. You're commanding the story. You are choosing where it goes, not fans. Just because you have an audience doesn't mean you need to tone it down to be more palpable to others.
Once your demo is released...
Do: Keep a balance
Making games is very, very hard. And the world is very, very harsh. It is okay to let your fans know about delays or potential cancellations, such as through the devlogs on itch.io for your game, in your community spaces, or on your blog. Please be honest. If you do not think that, after a demo's release, you can continue on the project, make it clear that it has been cancelled or on hiatus.
People will be understanding. The world sucks, and it sucks the life out of us. People are more forgiving if you are honest with the status of your game, rather than leaving it in a perpetual limbo.
Don't: Think that the popularity of your demo constitutes how "good" your game is.
Your demo may not do well. That could be a number of factors. Maybe your marketing didn't hit where you think it should have. Maybe you posted it at the same time as another game. Not your fault. The full release may do better. Don't let the numbers be the reason you give up.
Do: Network!
Get to know fellow developers in the space so you can learn from one another and get more ideas for improving your own games.
Don't: Use developers.
Use a developer's resources. You should not be making friends with other devs if your desire is to try and become friends with big people. That's a parasocial relationship, buddy!
Do: Tell your fans the course of action
Do you have a development timeline set up? Writing multiple days? Give fans a general outline that you planned before writing your demo. It's okay to miss things as long as you're honest. But a timeline will help you hold accountability for yourself.
Don't: Charge for it.
I've seen at least 3 games take the "I'm going to charge for a demo" route in an effort to sway children from playing the game. This is going to sway everyone. Especially if players have not seen a complete + finished product from you, they will not be buying an unfinished game. There are other ways to hide your games from children, such as using itch.io's adult content filters and applying them to your projects.
Main takeaway: Be honest.
I say this a lot throughout this post, but it's because it pushes on a particular trend I see in beginner visual novel developers. There's this desire to create, but there is also the desire for fandom centered around what characters and world spawn from your creations. To maintain that fandom, you need to create. You need to be consistent. It may be harsh, but it's the reality.
Life is hard, and a large majority of us are NOT doing this for a living. Life will get in the way. It always has, it always will.
That's why it's good to practice integrity. Know yourself and your limits. Take steps back and be willing to be open + honest.
Fans won't be happy if you keep saying a game is delayed and show little to no work. Posting unrelated artwork and spending months answering Tumblr asks instead of making a game will eventually run you in the mud without anyone to enjoy what you have the potential to create.
Live up to your promises, and if you can't, be honest. Your community will support you as long as you're open.
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OKAY BUT.
I woke up this morning with like, a flashing need to send you an ask about your LADS Actor AU, which sometimes just consumes my thoughts at random times.
👁️ But the boys recording the MYTHS.
Angst CENTRAL ANGST.
I just remembered the last update where they were doing Caleb's death (haha temporary of course, he's just taking a break) and she's acting out how she passes out and he pops up next to her like, why so sad?
And like... Recording the HEART BREAKING bits of their myths?
Spoilers ahead in case you HAVEN'T seen them all, won't go into detail but...
Dying in Xavier's arms? Forseer Zayne reading her fate and giving up everything for her? Rafayel having to chose between her life and his people's?
Whatever the fuck Sylus has got goin on? With the whole stabbing in the chest?
I was just consumed by the thought of them having to get into that headspace before the scene, having to pretend to see her die or hurt or knowing they won't see her again, when it's fake.
The aftermath of it too, getting out of that, maybe they're all whipped (yes) and just need a good hug and to ground themselves. Method acting you know...
Anyway 👁️ I've ranted enough 👁️
Thank you for reading through this whole ass paragraph, hope your day is wonderful!
content: how i imagine they’d be as actors when filming their myths. * some minor spoilers from me on xavier as well ! * ૮ ˶ᵔ ~ ᵔ˶ ა
you literally have no clue how i literally love you for still thinking ab those silly hcs😭 THANK YOU THANK U THANK UUU !! AND STOP BC THIS IDEA??? ate down.
cause omg they’d literally be love interests who grew head over heels in love with the main co-star in a fr deep(ressive) story. and it’s like gawd. what a life they’d come to lead if they really were actors then LMAOO
but anyway ! they would be told and agree (months prior), that method acting would be the best thing when filming each of their intense myths. and i know for a fact that rafayel would be the one waayyy too into that method acting stuff because it’d all end up feeling really personal.
‘i can totally work with this’ were the exact words that came from him as you watched and listened to him, munching on his box of donuts (this was a habit between you two — going over to the other’s trailer to snack on whatever the other got to eat). not to mention the times he’d re-read his copy of the script analysis for the nth time / before main rehearsals, and how he’d be all “pft, i wonder why [main director’s name] thinks acting all of this would ever even get to me”. and that never aged well at ALL because he ended up being more attached to it than he expected, as his natural reactions were already in tune with his lemurian character anyway.
but anyway during the era of, rafayel would suddenly stay to himself a little more / even got confused on his real feelings for you (?). and of course he’d recognize that and try to keep things professional, but he would also catch himself sometimes looking at or treating you like mc. and it’s like oh ! all this because he somehow tied everything to your irl friendship / dynamic ??? LOL
but anyway much like rafayel, xavier would also see you as the mc. just in a different way of course. cause it doesn’t help that you just so happen to naturally act like the mc, even off camera.
now when acting the real deal of his myth — when you lay lifeless in his arms — he would imagine that you really were the mc, keeping his head down as the feeling of the idea of holding the one he loved but couldn’t save hit him. his eyes would also be vacant during this scene, especially as he held the star tassel, the weight of it feeling heavier as he envisioned you giving it to him before dying.
in this same scene where he had to hold one of your limp hands in his, it actually felt colder. this didn’t show in the final take because xavier acts so authentically, but it did catch him off guard — as no one told him your hands would actually have to be cold for the real scene. and that made the moment feel even more real and intensified this ache in his chest at the thought of losing you. (lolol ofc the directors kept that because gawd everything was so realistic)
he’d tell himself it was just that scene that got to him but he’d eventually grow to randomly start reaching out to hold your hand in his more often, just to feel its warmth.
stop im giggling now bc im abt to go read smth angsty w xavier
moving on though ! zayne and his foreseer myth? especially dawnbreaker?? .. let me not go there bc this would be longer than needed. though i will say that zayne hadn’t planned on being “affected”. but he would quietly start to observe you more, as his way of not directly discussing his emotions. (this was also what prompted him to be quick to protect you on set)
in conclusion. rafayel as an actor, who has the biggest soft spot for you, would pull back just a little while in that headspace. quietly growing to wonder if you’d also forget him & all the moments you shared, once love and deepspace was over. and he would also start joking about his feelings more to mask them during that time. xavier, on the other hand, would develop a habit of finding lame excuses to have your hand in his whenever you were together, since feeling your cold hands that day did actually do something to him. zayne wouldn’t want to admit how it actually affected him but he would eventually be vulnerable about it with only you. lastly and not surprisingly enough, sylus would remain the only sane one regarding his character's darker lore LMAOO. so i’ll just leave that there (until his myth comes out).
but even though their well hidden feelings for you complicated things, they were great actors so it wouldn’t really affect them terribly for long, as they had ways to separate their personal lives from their roles by all the way you’d comfort them after you found out.
a/n: THIS WAS SO FUN & FUNNY TO ADD ONTO. althoughhh i personally don’t feel like this is 100% spot on & tied to the (1st) actor au hcs, as it’s just some ways i think they’d react but that could just be bc i wrote this in one sitting. didn’t also plan on talking that much and ab my glorious 6ft prince rafayel either but anyway thank yeww for this pooks. (also, im giving you a moon emoji for all our next discussions bc i look forward to them🙂↕️ )
#love and deepspace#love and deepspace actor au#nunu’s archived insights#nunu nation stays rising#🌕🧚♀️ & nunu yap away#nunu’s favorites 💌🫧
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more reading recs
because one post isn't enough. we are hashtag blessed with fic.
as requested, i've highlighted fics with noncon and/or dubcon elements in orange. beyond that, you are responsible for reading tags, warnings, and summaries.
pairings are indicated, although these may change or may not be established yet.
there is no method to this madness, no specific order. these are listed here as my brain remembered them.
i've checked all the links maybe three times, if they're broken, i blame tumblr's formatting.
without further ado...
Slasher Handler by @dragonnarrative-writes - Ghost x Reader
"Simon does serial killer things. What a rascal!" Another fantastically written Simon, with wonderful dashes of Gaz and Price. It's put the term 'romance knives' in my vocabulary. There are many quotable bits and moments that made my blood run cold with how normal the ~situation~ feels, but everything has to be experienced firsthand.
The Far Shore by @deadbranch - Soap x Reader
DB's fic collection is rich, and The Far Shore is no different. I fucking loved Pacific Rim, so when I saw her first mention a PR AU, I did imaginary backflips. DB's Readers are some of my favorites because of how complex and realistic they feel, and when combined with the visceral depth of the neural handshake AND Soap? Compelling. The dynamic between them is fascinating. I almost can't wait for it to be finished so I can go back and dissect it.
Falling into Place by @mortuarywriting
Morg's brought the first COD Isekai AU I've read, like a little treat, with A/B/O to boot. The first chapter hooked me and cracked me up. Their dialogue reads so well, it truly feels like I got sucked into the universe. The panicked ramblings, the over-explanation, the 'oh shit, we don't even have a shared cultural touchstone' moments. I cannot wait for more.
Carvings by @femalefemur - Price x Reader
Cyn's got this amazing thing going on called 'Top Quality Worms' where she takes me by the hand and leads me down a rabbit hole I didn't know I'd find so cozy. Carvings is one piece from her incredible list, featuring a bloody, possessive Captain Price. Somehow, out of this entire piece, Price snapping a pen really did it for me. Did someone say loss of control? Oh no, not my kryptonite!
Under Your Spell by @groguspicklejar - Gaz x Reader x Soap
This fic had me at the pairing tag. Lured me right in. No hope for me, and I'm not mad about it. The way Gaz and Soap play off of each other in Under Your Spell is spine-tingling in more ways than one. The definition of scaroused. Kelsi writes a wonderful Gaz. The first two paragraphs in part two, Split My Skin, describe him perfectly to me.
Chokehold by @ccrites - Soap x Reader
Chokehold is a chef's kiss read. Starts off as a cute and sweet gym read, and uh, well, it does get sweeter, in a way. Without spoiling anything, there is a brief cab ride that made me take a lap before things got really going for Reader. CC's Soap is a delightful tease that is tender all at the same time. I'd join his gym in a heartbeat.
Knight/Princess AU by @a-small-writer-in-a-big-world - Price x Reader
I've read and re-read this AU series a dozen times. It's so gd cute, I might need to see the dentist about how it's rotting my teeth. Seriously, it makes ME want to be a princess. Specifically Price's princess. Bear writes such a sweet and gruff Price, catch me holding a hand over my heart and just sighing. I'm also a big fan of multiple POVs and the insight into each character.
Martyr in the Making by @eilidh-eternal - Ghost x Reader
I had a tattoo touch-up the other day, and while waiting, I thought about this fic: the dream and nightmare of being tattooed by Simon and the rest of the 141. It's a dream for obvious reasons (probably unhealthy for me) and a nightmare because of, well, you'll have to read the story. Getting a tattoo can be such an intimate experience. You put yourself into someone's care and get something permanently etched onto your body. When Reader sits for Simon, you're right there with her, the two of you on an altar.
Liquid Smooth by @cordeliawhohung - Gaz x Reader
Bodyguard!Gaz save me, save me, bodyguard!Gaz. Ugh, Gaz is fucking incredible in every flavor, but there is something that hits different about the guy when he's flexing those 'VIP protection' skills. There are several tiny moments in Liquid Smooth that made me audibly whisper, "God, I wish that were me." If you have a conifer tree allergy, you might not be able to handle the god-tier pining. (I'll see myself out.)
pornstar!Gaz by @cordeliawhohung - Gaz x Reader
Gotta include the series that I drop everything for whenever I see an update. Another fantastic depiction of best man Kyle Gaz Garrick. The charm, the jealousy, the care...My personal favorite installments are Whispers and Threesomes.
plus size puppygirl!reader / Simon & Reader / Punishment by @secretsynthetic - Price x Reader x Ghost
Ghost gets his Captain a puppy, and Synth gives us a tasty Price x Reader x Ghost story. I've linked the intro and a Simon x Reader snippet, but my personal favorite is Punishment. Punishment is a deeper dive into Price the disciplinarian: "how the hell do i get a mutt like you to fuckin’ listen?" I'd gush about it, but again, this is another one to read and experience firsthand. One of my favorite recent explorations of a PriceGhost dynamic.
~~
i'll probably cobble another one of these together in may 2024. my fic backlog is something else. i blame it on all the massive talent. mwah.
#sy fic recs#fic recs#i am a deeply corny person so we're gonna roll with my bad jokes and declarations of love and admiration if that's cool#if there's a typo i'm going to lose it#authors if i've mislabeled please let me know!!#dropping this like a bird at the door and skittering
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On Writing and the Never-Ending Need for Gratification
Ah, writing. The noble pursuit. The art of crafting worlds, breathing life into characters, and—let’s be real—craving validation like a plant thirsting for sunlight. If there’s one thing no one tells you when you start writing, it’s that half of the battle isn’t the words themselves but resisting the urge to scream, “LOOK AT ME, I MADE THIS. PLEASE TELL ME I’M GOOD.”
There’s this delicate balance between writing for yourself and quietly wondering why the universe hasn’t sent a parade of adoring readers to your door yet. You spend hours, days, weeks nurturing your story—pacing around your room, brainstorming at 3 a.m., possibly shedding a tear over a paragraph (or your third cup of coffee)—and then hit "publish" only to be greeted by... silence.
And suddenly, you’re asking the real questions: Was it too long? Too short? Too niche? Did my main character come off as too emotionally unavailable? Should I be more emotionally unavailable?
But here's the thing, my fellow writers—deep down, we know why we do it. We write because we’re storytellers, right? Because the worlds we imagine are so vivid that they can’t stay locked up in our heads. Because we genuinely have something to say, something that’s worth saying.
...But also, wouldn’t it be nice to get a few notes? Just a handful of little dopamine boosters. I’m not asking for much—just enough to remind me that someone, somewhere, is reading this and is vaguely impressed by my ability to string sentences together.
I mean, sure, "write for yourself," they say. But also, write for that sweet, sweet gratification that keeps you from spiraling into existential dread after pouring your heart and soul into a piece. Because if art isn’t appreciated by others, did it even happen?
(Okay, yes, it did—but you know what I mean!)
So, to all my fellow writers out there feeling like they’re screaming into the void: I see you. We see each other. You’re doing great. Your words matter. Even if the void is a little too quiet sometimes, remember—you’re still out here, putting pen to paper (or, more likely, fingers to keyboard), and that’s something worth celebrating.
But seriously, if you read this, just drop a like or something. It’s good for my creative process, I swear.
#writing#writeblr#writers on tumblr#am writing#writerscommunity#writer stuff#writing community#writer struggles
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Five Times Winnie Wanted to Confess, One Time Augustine Did
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This has been in my docs done for ages I just never got around to posting it, written during a Cold Front obsession phase
Do excuse me if they're out of character or if I messed up any dates, I can't remember them all perfectly— Anyways, Enjoy!
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Sypnosis: The first time Winnie realized he was in love was at the tender age of 12.
He hadn’t expected to think of that at all really, especially not at 4 in the morning of all times.
Word count: 8.9k
The first time Winnie realized he was in love was at the tender age of 12.
He hadn’t expected to think of that at all really, especially not at 4 in the morning of all times.
The date on his phone read February 14th, 20xx. He didn’t know why he was still awake, but something in him absolutely refused to get a wink of sleep, quite different to usual. On a normal day he was asleep by 11 maximum, with the exception of the first few days after moving away from his home (his mother was very concerned, he still remembers how she’d check on him during the night to see if he was sleeping or not. He’d pretend to the best of his ability until she left before he returned to wallowing in his sorrows again.).
Scrolling on his phone seemed to be the only form of entertainment at the time, if he got out of bed his parents would realize he was awake and he really didn’t feel like getting another lecture. He didn’t have any homework to busy himself with, nor did he really feel like looking for something else. Messaging Augustine had come to mind, but there was no doubt he was asleep at this time.
The other was stubborn, especially when it came to him staying up on weekends, but he never usually made it past 2. He would also sleep in until around 1PM every time he tried to be stubborn and stay awake longer and get scolded about it when he woke up, punished with doing extra chores. On those days he wouldn’t stop complaining about it, saying he was ‘a big boy now’ and that ‘it’s not fair others get to stay awake and get away with it!’. He couldn’t help finding his friend’s enraged expressions funny.
The blond didn’t end up saying anything so as not to wake him up, they could probably talk in the morning, anyway. With nothing better to do, he scrolled through anything he could find trying to distract himself or become tired enough to sleep and get the rest he needed.
When his eyes finally started to get heavier, he noticed a website that caught his attention. It was something posted merely moments ago, titled something along the lines of what to do on valentines day for your loved ones or whatever (he was too tired to process it properly). Out of curiosity, his fingers glided over the link to open it.
It was too late for him to process most of the words, but what stood out was the beginning of the article. It was nothing special, only the typical explanation of what the day is and why it's considered special, but his eyes lingered on a single phrase. ‘Valentine's day was a special occasion for everyone, the perfect day to confess to your crush, whether it's a friend, classmate, or even acquaintance who has lingered on your mind’ was the quote, the rest of the paragraph continued similarly.
His tired mind couldn’t help but wonder what could happen on this day, childish brain coming up with no more than the image of people like his parents, always together and in love, dedicated to each other to the point you could see it a mile away. He wondered what the day could mean for him, is there a special someone he should be thinking about? Is it normal this is the first time he really thinks about that? Is he gonna be the outcast again being alone in the morning while everyone else has someone by their side? Was he weird because he didn’t have his eyes set on a girl he wanted to…kiss? It shouldn’t be an issue he was twelve, but what if things in Saskatchewan were different or something, would they laugh at hi-
His thoughts came to a halt as the image of his one friend came to mind. Augustine didn’t have his eyes on any girls either, right? He would have known otherwise. They told each other everything, that wouldn’t be an exception!
..Did he know anything about this day? It was never acknowledged all that much in Quebec, was it the same here? Maybe he wasn't so weird after all? The thought calmed his nerves a little more than it should have.
Despite that, for some reason, the idea of being with his best friend during that day didn’t bother him as much as it should have. He felt his face rapidly heat up at the thought of holding his hand, it wouldn’t be the first time they did that they do so very often Augustine always liked to drag him places saying that it was easy and faster (which Winnie was offended by, he can walk fast too!) but for some reason that thought felt different, he didn’t know why.
If his reaction to finding out about the event was normal, this was definitely not. They’re friends, Auggie was his first and only friend after coming here. He didn’t pity him, he didn’t leave, he wanted to stay, he was why Winnie talked to other people at all even if to him they were enough on their own. Auggie was nice to him the way he wanted, he never left him out of things. The other boy was different, straight forward at best but Winnie liked that about him. He never lied about things (even if he did, he was so bad it was laughable), and he never laughed when Winnie’s emotions took the best of him. He supported him and it meant everything to the little boy.
Since they met, he visibly started feeling better. He finally came out of his shell and started crying less, eventually returning to his normal sleep schedule. Well, normal until today that was. But that's all they were, right? Nothing else, that's all they could be right? He wasn’t a girl, nor was the brunette, so that’s what they were.
..Their parents didn’t ever say anything about the way they acted, so it was okay right? Not much would change if they did do things together on that day. Would it be weird if he said he loved him in the morning?? That was the point of the day right? To celebrate love with people you like and enjoy the day together?
It would be okay if he tried to say something right? Nothing bad would happen, Auggie would probably be okay with it too. He didn’t want to be alone and he doubted the other did either, so it was good for them both right?
Winnie barely processed it when he yawned, just realizing how tired all that thinking had made him. Another look at the time told him over an hour had passed, 5:21 Am now instead of 4 when he last checked.
He had to rest so he knew what to say in the morning, otherwise he’ll mess up and forget later!
Finally, he closed his eyes and drifted off to a dreamless sleep 6 hours later than he would have typically wanted to.
It was 2 P.M when Winnie woke up, his head was pounding. His eyes hurt to open and he felt a lot more tired than usual, entirely disoriented.
The door creaked open as a woman with an appearance similar to the child peered her head in, perking up when she realized he was awake.
“Winnie?”
He really shouldn’t have stayed awake, his head hurt even more at hearing the words that he almost forgot to process his name being called. Mustering up the energy to fix his seating, he looked up at his mother to respond despite looking like an absolute wreck.
He was too out of it to really process what happened before he found himself near the lake with Augustine, the shorter kicking rocks into it paying little attention to him spacing out.
..Ah right, he was scolded for being awake for so long. Apparently his mother had realized he was awake when she went to take the laundry out of his room in the morning. His phone was warm, a clear sign he only got off of it recently. She ended up leaving after telling him to get ready for the day, that his best friend had been waiting for him for an hour by that point.
Hearing how long he left him standing, Winnie practically jumped out of bed already panicked as guilt overtook his senses. As soon as he was ready, he basically raced out the door to find his friend who was halfway up climbing a tree by the time he noticed him.
“Auggie!” he exclaimed while making his way over, whatever the other responded didn’t stick to his memory, too tired to really process how fast he typically spoke.
“-Winnie! Look at me already!”
The blond was snapped out of his trance by a flick to the forehead, blinking a few times before his eyes cooperated enough to notice how close his friend was to his face. He practically jumped back with a yelp, forgetting how he was sitting on the edge of the lake and falling into the water.
Augustine panicked and barely grabbed onto his hand, almost falling into the water himself. It’s not that Winnie was unable to swim, more that the water was cold if anything.
With some splashing, they eventually managed to pull him out, but he was absolutely soaked. Augustine couldn’t help but laugh at how wet he was, much to Winnie’s displeasure.
“DON’T LAUGH AT ME YOU’RE THE REASON I FELL AUGGIE” He huffed out, faking annoyance which only made his friend laugh harder.
It was.. Nice.
…until he began sneezing, that was.
The two ended up having to run to Winnie’s house as Augustine dragged him back by the hand once more, trying to warm him up as they went along.
The brunette ended up having to explain to their parents why Winnie was soaked when they were just meant to be playing as he dried himself off and changed, eventually making his way back to his room after Auggie had left to his own house again.
Their conversation can wait, he was too tired and it wasn’t the right time.
But that was okay.
They’ll always have time.
———————————————
The second time Winnie thought about love, he was 14.
2 years had passed since his valentines day dilemma, safe to say time (and procrastination) had eventually made him forget all about his plans.
As they got older, Auggie had hardly changed. They were still together as they were since he moved, only fresh in highschool! Best friends, like they said they were.
During the past few years, he was pressured to talk to more people and make new friends. At some point, he no longer found himself obsessing over finding out why they wanted to be around him. Eventually, the thought of being approached out of pity felt only like a distant memory or something he imagined happening, though it was far from that. If not for that fear, his mother wouldn’t have talked to Augustine’s about him, they wouldn’t have had their c̶h̶a̶o̶t̶i̶c̶ first meeting, never gotten the chance to be this close.
He may not admit or even say it all that often, but that is one thing he’s grateful for. If not for that, he’d have still been dealing with the emotional wreck of being the new kid, outcast like he always expected to be. But he didn’t need to be, it was proven to him in the best way it ever could have been.
He had come to know Augustine’s other friends, they even liked him. The first time he couldn’t make it to school and they still invited Winnie to sit with them the boy was overjoyed, almost to the point he forgot about his friend’s absence for a while. By the time the day was over, he couldn’t help feeling empty without the energetic presence rambling alongside him as they walked back home.
It was one day, so it didn’t matter that much in the long run right?
From that day on, he became more comfortable with them. He didn’t worry as much about being wanted there or not, becoming visibly more comfortable. It came to the point that it was so clear the brunette asked him about it straight up during the middle of one of their walks.
“Hey Win?” Augustine paused, nearly causing the boy behind him to run into him.
The blond caught himself the last second, stabilizing his stance enough to make sure he wouldn’t fall before speaking again.
“Mm yea Auggie? Why’d you stop walking? I was gonna fall on you!” He whined.
“You’ve been more willing to sit with people recently, did something happen while I was gone?”
His questioning look was met with a big smile, almost like Winnie was waiting to talk about it.
“Oh!! That? When you didn’t come a few days ago, your friends came up to me and asked me to sit with them even if you weren’t there, they were really nice and-”
As he continued to ramble, Augustine returned to walking. While the other followed soon after, his expression stayed the same as his ramble- which the brunette stopped listening to- didn’t cease. He felt weird about that, why did it feel weird hearing how happy Winnie was hanging out with his friends on their own? That was what he wanted, right? To get him more friends?
It was probably nothing, doubt it mattered much anyway. It was one time and a normal thing.
“You never told me why you didn't show up to school that day though, did something happen? Mom didn’t let me check on you because she said you probably didn’t want to be bothered at the time” Winnie inquired all of a sudden, catching the other’s attention and cutting off his line of thought.
“I was sick, couldn’t get out of bed and recovered over the weekend” he quickly responded, it was no lie but saying he wasn’t bummed out by not seeing his friend would be a lie. It would have probably made him feel less like a glorified pile of muck on the side of the road.
At least now he knows he wasn’t ditched, it wasn’t intentional or voluntary at least.
Winnie didn’t abandon him because of them.
Of course he wouldn’t! Why would he ever leave someone like him, anyway? He was Winnie’s first and closest friend, nobody else. Others getting to know him wouldn’t change that, if they would have then Winnie wouldn’t have put his all into proving he was cool enough they’d be friends.
Winnie didn’t really notice the look on his friend’s face, too focused on making sure they crossed the road properly. The traffic lights were green and cars were zooming past, yet Augustine’s pace didn’t slow or pause at all. Rushing forward a little faster, he pulled the other back by his collar.
Augustine yelped, not expecting a sudden pull cutting off his breathing for a moment. Winnie gave him a sheepish smile as he coughed trying to breathe properly again, muttering out an awkward apology.
“You were about to walk into the road silly, why did you get so distracted suddenly?” He didn’t say how he found it funny, knowing the other would throw a dramatic fit over that. It was slightly endearing, in a way.
He only realized he sas silently staring at the one before him for a few minutes too long until he felt tapping on his forehead.
“Earth to Winnie, you didn’t hear a word I said didn’t you?” Augustine grumbled.
Winnie couldn't help but laugh once again, his antics really were different.
“We can cross the road now, hurry up before it turns green again!”
It seemed like his dear friend was back to being himself after that mini-distraction, it felt more right this way. He was, once again, taken by the hand as Auggie ran across the road to get them past as fast as possible without the light switching colours on them again.
Winnie could swear he almost tripped 3 times during that small distance run. He should really focus more.
As he looked back to his best friend he couldn’t help but sit there in silence for a few minutes. He wasn’t saying anything this time, only staring off at something god knows where again. As he did so, Winnie couldn’t help thinking back to his thoughts that night two years ago.
Should he bring it up? They were even closer now, so it was even less possible Auggie would react badly (if he did at all!)He had the energy for the conversation this time, they were alone like they needed to be too!
If he didn’t say anything, he’d be too much of a coward to do so again later. 2 years passing since the time he originally planned to and ended up ditching proved that!
With a deep breath and little to no plan, Winnie decided to just get it over with as he could quite literally feel himself inching closer to a heart attack.
“Hey Auggie?”
Augustine turned to him, suddenly losing interest in whatever had his attention moments ago.
“What is i-”
“AUGUSTINE!’
A voice of someone they hadn’t anticipated caught both the young boys off guard. Winnie recognized her, a girl from their math class earlier that day. She was insistent on talking to his friend almost the entire class which threw him off but he said nothing nonetheless.
Augustine’s attention snapped to the call of his name instead, focus shifting.
Winnie didn’t hear the conversation that transpired next, busy trying to understand why the sudden interruption annoyed him the way it did.
It happened sometimes, that was normal. Augustine knew everyone, it's only natural they came up to him sometimes too no? He wasn’t the only one.
“Winnie I need to go for a bit, Donna just said there’s something I need to see quickly or something? You can continue without me I’ll tell you when I’m back” the boy rushed out as he was being pulled away off to the complete opposite road of the path they were going on.
Winnie found himself nodding involuntarily, hardly processing it when the words “I’ll see you when you’re back then” came out of his mouth.
They were oddly dry, not the way he usually talks.
Augustine wasn’t able to dwell on that much further as the girl, now known as Donna, dragged him off somewhere else leaving Winnie alone.
Another time, surely it’d work out by then right?
———————————————
The third time Winnie acknowledged love, he was 16.
Another two years had passed and, once again, he kept procrastinating and chickening out at the last second.
The one time he was finally about to say something, Augustine was dragged away and didn’t return until midnight. He was worried sick the entire day, what if something happened? He promised not to take long, why did he? Maybe he was dragged into something bad, maybe he got hurt and couldn’t come back yet what if he got kidnapped what if something worse happened he didn’t know what the’d do with himself if—
Their mothers were equally worried that day, apparently Augustine didn’t tell his parents he’d take longer because of whatever happened either. When he returned alone, Winnie was questioned about the others whereabouts and lacked a good answer, increasing their concern only for the boy in question to appear again a mere few hours later and get the scolding of his life.
He wasn’t hurt more than a few scratches here and there, some bruises sure but those were his own fault for not being careful as he should have been. Auggie never explained what happened that day, though. It’s not like he pressed for any further information but it was…weird.
Since then, he never brought it up again no matter how much the brunette pestered him to continue his sentence on that day, claiming he forgot or making up any excuse he could think of on the spot to avoid having that interaction when he was not yet prepared. He was procrastinating for so long it had to be perfect. That was the only thing that would make it feel worth the wait.
Winnie would tell him on the anniversary of their first meeting.
..was it excessive? To call it an anniversary, he doubted Auggie remembered the date as anything special but it meant the world to him at the time, and it does even as time passed. It was when he realized he didn’t have to feel so alone anymore, the day someone in this province finally made him feel wanted and welcome.
Because of him, he got closer to more people. The friends Augustine introduced him to, the ones who invited him to hang out with them alone, others around the school, they all wanted to know him for him now. He was the reason they started liking Winnie, the reason he has any other friends at all.
Of course, Augustine would forever stay his favourite and dearest one, but that didn’t mean others didn’t become valued too. Winnie had never been happier, people waving to him as he passed by, stopping to talk to him from time to time, it made him feel warm inside again.
He didn’t miss the glances he got, but it never felt like much of a concern.
At least, not for a while.
Or not yet.
What he had noticed was how Augustine had changed over the years, how he reacted whenever the blond introduced him to a new friend he’d make. How he tended to not respond the way he used to when they were talking about interests they had, especially Hockey.
Winnie knew his friend always loved that game. He was the best player their school had for years, close to all other members of the team and always telling him about it. H̶e̶ t̶r̶i̶e̶d̶ n̶o̶t̶ t̶h̶i̶n̶k̶i̶n̶g̶ a̶b̶o̶u̶t̶ h̶o̶w̶ c̶o̶n̶v̶e̶n̶i̶e̶n̶t̶l̶y̶ t̶h̶e̶ t̶i̶m̶e̶ A̶u̶g̶u̶s̶t̶i̶n̶e̶ s̶t̶o̶p̶p̶e̶d̶ t̶a̶l̶k̶i̶n̶g̶ a̶b̶o̶u̶t̶ i̶t̶ l̶i̶n̶e̶d̶ u̶p̶ w̶i̶t̶h̶ t̶h̶e̶ t̶i̶m̶e̶ w̶h̶e̶n̶ h̶e̶ j̶o̶i̶n̶e̶d̶ t̶h̶e̶ t̶e̶a̶m̶ a̶l̶o̶n̶g̶s̶i̶d̶e̶ t̶h̶e̶ b̶o̶y̶.
H̶e̶ d̶i̶d̶n̶'t̶ m̶i̶s̶s̶ t̶h̶e̶ d̶i̶s̶t̶a̶n̶t̶ l̶o̶o̶k̶s̶ f̶r̶o̶m̶ a̶c̶r̶o̶s̶s̶ t̶h̶e̶ r̶i̶n̶k̶, w̶h̶e̶n̶ A̶u̶g̶u̶s̶t̶i̶n̶e̶'s̶ e̶y̶e̶s̶ l̶o̶o̶k̶e̶d̶ c̶o̶l̶d̶e̶r̶ t̶h̶a̶n̶ t̶h̶e̶y̶ e̶v̶e̶r̶ h̶a̶d̶ b̶e̶f̶o̶r̶e̶.
W̶h̶e̶n̶ h̶e̶ f̶e̶l̶t̶ d̶i̶f̶f̶e̶r̶e̶n̶t̶.
N̶o̶t̶ t̶h̶a̶t̶ i̶t̶ w̶a̶s̶ a̶n̶ i̶s̶s̶u̶e̶ t̶h̶o̶u̶g̶h̶, t̶h̶e̶y̶ w̶e̶r̶e̶ f̶r̶i̶e̶n̶d̶s̶, r̶i̶g̶h̶t̶?̶ I̶t̶ w̶a̶s̶ l̶i̶k̶e̶l̶y̶ h̶e̶ w̶a̶s̶ h̶a̶v̶i̶n̶g̶ a̶ b̶a̶d̶ d̶a̶y̶ a̶n̶y̶w̶a̶y̶, t̶h̶i̶s̶ y̶e̶a̶r̶ w̶a̶s̶ n̶o̶t̶ t̶r̶e̶a̶t̶i̶n̶g̶ h̶i̶m̶ k̶i̶n̶d̶l̶y̶ b̶y̶ a̶n̶y̶ m̶e̶a̶n̶s̶.
They were still friends, accompanying each other to every class and doing things together as always. It was a good thing how they haven’t changed in that regard, people always came to associate them with the other.
Overtime, it became apparent that wherever Augustine is, Winnie was not far away and vice versa. They used to joke about it at first until it became frequent enough the joke itself got boring. Now, it’s nothing special.
Sure, they walked with other people and hung out with others sometimes. a̶t̶ l̶e̶a̶s̶t̶ h̶e̶ d̶i̶d̶, A̶g̶u̶s̶t̶i̶n̶e̶ m̶u̶s̶t̶ h̶a̶v̶e̶ t̶o̶o̶ n̶o̶?̶ h̶e̶ h̶a̶d̶ p̶l̶e̶n̶t̶y̶ o̶f̶ f̶r̶i̶e̶n̶d̶s̶ a̶s̶ f̶a̶r̶ a̶s̶ h̶e̶ k̶n̶e̶w̶. But it never damaged their bond.
Winnie was planning this day for the past 4 months at this point, it almost felt funny how repetitive this routine felt by the third time. “The day he would stop being a coward, would say it to his friend’s face and wait for the response he yearns for” or whatever he always thought about, cheesy in a way but it wasn’t like he could exactly help that.
They were only walking through the halls during their lunch period when they passed by Winnie’s locker. A normal thing if not for the fact 3 people were crowded around it, whispering to themselves.
The duo didn’t pay it much time at first, preferring to continue their debate on the newest pointless subject they thought of: if oranges came first or if it was the colour. Augustine insisted the fruit did, whereas Winnie was prepared to die on the hill saying it was the other way around.
The group of 3 in front of the locker were not people the two were particularly friends with, Winnie recognized one as someone who sits next to him in.. biology? At least that's what he remembered. Augustine shrugged at the question of their names, saying it didn’t come up enough for him to remember them much, adding on how they weren’t particularly interesting enough for him to care beyond acquainting with anyway.
It wasn’t something Winnie needed to put much thought into either, trusting his friend’s judgement.
All that really mattered now was convincing Auggie to follow him to the rooftop where he could finally say what he wanted to in complete privacy, but until then he had to keep his cool and continue their seemingly endless bickering.
They were forced to snap out of their conversation when one of the boys pushed someone towards them, turning to see what the issue was. The girl pushed towards them by her friends lost her balance, but Winnie quickly caught her fall before any actual damage could be caused, at which her face turned red.
H̶e̶ c̶o̶u̶l̶d̶ s̶w̶e̶a̶r̶ A̶u̶g̶u̶s̶t̶i̶n̶e̶ g̶l̶a̶r̶e̶d̶ a̶t̶ h̶e̶r̶.
“Are you okay?” he inquired, looking between the three in obvious confusion.
The girl just nodded, fiddling with her hands seemingly unable to form a proper response. As he turned away to leave after telling them to be more careful, his arm was grabbed by her as a seemingly impulse decision she regretted almost immediately after.
W̶a̶y̶ t̶o̶ s̶e̶t̶ h̶i̶s̶ p̶l̶a̶n̶ o̶f̶f̶ a̶c̶t̶i̶o̶n̶, h̶e̶ o̶n̶l̶y̶ h̶a̶d̶ 1̶5̶ m̶i̶n̶u̶t̶e̶s̶ l̶e̶f̶t̶!̶
Before he could breathe, she finally spoke up.
“Can I- talk to you for a few minutes?”
Winnie looked back at his friend, seemingly at a loss. He didn’t want to stay, he planned so long for this but she didn’t have plans of letting him go yet and-
The look on Augustine’s face was cold as it was on those days in the rink, his expression changing to one Winnie couldn’t read in mere seconds after they were talking normally only moments ago.
At least that's what he thought, it’s what that looked like anyway.
“You can go, it’s fine” the brunette said, though Winnie knew better than to believe his tone was one of someone who really didn’t care what he did. He knew better than that, Augustine was annoyed, but what for?
It seemed like the girl took that as an invitation to drag him away, almost tripping Winnie in the meantime. Her friends cheered her on as Augustine only turned around and walked in the opposite direction instead of waiting for him to return after or interrupting her for dragging him off like that.
Whatever side of the school she was taking him to he didn’t quite notice, only realizing how far they’d gone when she shoved a letter into his hands and refused to look at him. Winnie could easily guess the implications of that, seeing the heart sticker on the front of it.
It was about to be a long conversation, one he didn’t want to be a part of.
Why was it so difficult for things to work out when he wanted to come clean?
Maybe another time, surely.
———————————————
Winnie was 18 when they grew apart.
Their separation started slow, over the course of a few years.
It wasn’t entirely like that of course!- they were talking less is all, not really separate. They still hung out at school sometimes like they used to and sat together in one or two classes, W̶i̶n̶n̶i̶e̶ f̶o̶u̶n̶d̶ h̶i̶m̶s̶e̶l̶f̶ d̶r̶a̶g̶g̶e̶d̶ s̶o̶m̶e̶w̶h̶e̶r̶e̶ e̶l̶s̶e̶ m̶o̶r̶e̶ o̶f̶t̶e̶n̶ t̶h̶a̶n̶ n̶o̶t̶, A̶u̶g̶g̶i̶e̶ n̶e̶v̶e̶r̶ s̶t̶o̶p̶p̶e̶d̶ h̶i̶m̶ s̶o̶ h̶e̶ d̶i̶d̶n̶'t̶ t̶h̶i̶n̶k̶ t̶h̶e̶r̶e̶ w̶a̶s̶ t̶h̶a̶t̶ m̶u̶c̶h̶ o̶f̶ a̶ p̶r̶o̶b̶l̶e̶m̶ r̶i̶g̶h̶t̶?̶
They walked together after on their home, but Auggie never looked at him if he could help it. When he did, something felt wrong. Instead of the warm looks he always received when they were kids, it was like looking at a stranger.
Any conversations they had were started by him and died out quite quickly, the other giving the bare minimum of a response if not just nodding and moving along. The blond never figured out how to get him to talk like they used to again, nor the reason for the sudden change.
Something he noticed more and more as he approached his friend was the way the other would scoff, as if annoyed by his mere presence. Winnie remembers staying awake night after night thinking and trying to understand what happened, where he went wrong, what he did to make things this way.
He looked through every conversation he could find, recounting every single one he could remember trying to find what about him led his friend to being unhappy about his presence after so long.
Could it be that Augustine had grown tired of him?
Winnie shook his head- he was too tired to be thinking of this at the moment. They would be heading back home in a bit, it was 3:00 anyway, a few minutes left before the bell rings.
He would approach Auggie and have a proper conversation again if it was the last thing he did!
…He didn’t realize how hard that would be until he was already looking for the other, trying to make up any topic so they wouldn’t walk in silence again, and fate didn’t seem to be on his side as he found the person he was in search of before conjuring anything up.
Despite the cold air between them, Augustine still waited for him at the gate so they could walk back together. It made Winnie feel more at ease, knowing he at least didn’t mess up badly enough to get ditched entirely.
He didn’t respond to anyone calling him as he speed-walked over to the brunette, not wanting to make him wait longer than he already did. Heavens know the last thing Winnie wanted now was to have Augustine ditch him because he took too long.
As soon as he arrived, the brunette turned around and started walking down the path that's been imprinted into their memory over the years. It was always a routine of theirs to walk back together, the company was nice. The few times they were separated by something happening always ended up in an apology or hangout later that day to make up for the time.
Winnie both loved and hated how this walk started to feel overtime. The silence wasn’t comfortable as it used to be, his friend didn't look like he planned to break it either. As expected, the job fell on his shoulders.
The further they went, the worse it got. The familiarity of the path at least allowed him to space out and think more about what to do to make things less awkward.
It seemed as if his brain had other plans, by the way it didn’t cooperate. Whatever, they knew each other for years. The last few conversations couldn’t keep repeating, they’d never improve again if neither of them spoke up.
“Hey Auggie?” He began, with little clue as to where he planned to go with the conversation.
For the first time that day, Augustine looked up at him. “Yea?”
“I heard you had a test today, how did it go? Math right?” Winnie did not in fact hear of a math test, let alone one at all. A friend of his mentioned stressing over one the week prior and he just asked that based on someone else who probably wasn’t even in the same cla-
“Another calculus one, yes. Absurdly soon seeing when the last one was” he responded, looking back to the street instead of the one next to him.
That was something Winnie could work with, a start somewhere.
“How did it go? You were always complaining about that subject then finishing all the work before I even got halfway through the page, it was impressive”
There was a shift in Augustine’s expression, small, but noticeable. It was a good confirmation he was doing alright so far, which was all he needed.
The shorter just shrugged at the question. It was how he always reacted to those sorts of inquiries, Winnie couldn’t help letting out a small laugh.
H̶e̶ m̶i̶s̶s̶e̶d̶ t̶h̶e̶ w̶a̶y̶ A̶u̶g̶u̶s̶t̶i̶n̶e̶ s̶t̶i̶f̶f̶e̶n̶e̶d̶ a̶t̶ t̶h̶e̶ s̶o̶u̶n̶d̶.
“How'd you know there was a test to benign with? We’re in different math classes” Augustine may have been staring at the road still, but he was less focused on their path more at kicking the rocks he found on the way. A classic thing he did, trying to get them to go as far as possible.
When they were younger they used to try and see who could do it better, but Winnie eventually grew out of it. Of the many things that changed about Augustine, that habit was not one.
“A friend was complaining about it the last time we talked, I assumed you might have the same teacher and I was right!” He answered. What to him seemed like a simple answer made Augustine pause. Pause for a lot longer than he should have as his expression shifted again.
..Winnie didn’t think he said anything wrong, did he?
Augustine didn’t respond, opting to go back to walking faster than before rather than say a word.
They would be silent again if he didn’t continue, it was going well for once his friend responded with proper sentences again instead of gestures or small sentences.
“I’m sure you did great, Auggie!” He saw the other smile and roll his eyes at those words, s̶l̶i̶g̶h̶t̶l̶y̶ r̶e̶l̶i̶e̶v̶e̶d̶?̶.
The direction he was going in seemed to be exactly what was needed, so Winnie went on. “Did you go to hockey practice last Friday? I had to miss it to help my parents with stuff after school but I couldn’t stop thinking about that”
Augustine scoffed and Winnie hesitated to say anything else as a strange feeling set in.
“I went, everyone kept asking about you though”
“That’s so nice of them, I didn’t-” He was cut off by the feeling of his wrist being grabbed roughly.
“What was that?”
Winnie blinked awkwardly, just noticing the expression on the other’s face.
“I just..said that it was nice?” Augustine held onto his wrist tighter at that.
“Don’t play dumb, repeat what you said again I dare you.”
He was angry.
Despite everything, Winnie had never seen the other angry with him. He saw him annoyed, yelling at others from time to time, but never him. Especially not while grabbing his arm like it had offended him somehow.
“I didn’t say anythi-”
“You think I’m stupid don’t you? I heard you, coward.” The brunette let go of him and Winnie held the now slightly reddened wrist as his confusion only grew.
“Of course you didn’t. Whatever, I’ll see you later.”
Before Winnie could respond or reach out to stop him, the other stormed off in the opposite direction on his own but not without sending him a glare before he left.
He messed up again.
The problem was he didn’t know what he said.
Did he not like hockey anymore? Was that topic a bad idea?
For the first time, Winnie felt like their end was near.
He didn't know how long he stood in place before his legs finally started moving again, what he did know was the chances of fixing their friendship were lower than they were previously at the start of the day. The Augustine he knew and the one he was faced with felt like different people now.
It was like there was a stranger in his skin.
———————————————
Winnie was 18 when he wished he never thought about love at all.
A long time had passed since his last conversation with Augustine, and it was now the summer.
Their relationship only got worse after the conversation on their walk back to their houses, always off when the other one is present.
If anyone asked Winnie if he expected this only a few years prior, he would be beyond confused. The boy couldn’t have predicted a fallout as bad as this one.
He was going to move soon, they didn’t need to deal with this much longer.
That was what he thought, at least. When it came to the day right before they moved, their parents made them hang out together again. Instead of what they may have typically done a while back, they opted to go on one last car ride together to talk one last time.
It wasn’t like the fact they grew apart this badly wasn’t his fault. He’s the one who stopped talking despite Augustine’s attempts.
He’s the one who never responded after…
H̶e̶ n̶o̶t̶i̶c̶e̶d̶ A̶u̶g̶u̶s̶t̶i̶n̶e̶ l̶o̶o̶k̶ a̶t̶ h̶i̶m̶ f̶r̶o̶m̶ a̶c̶r̶o̶s̶s̶ t̶h̶e̶i̶r̶ c̶l̶a̶s̶s̶e̶s̶, c̶l̶u̶b̶s̶, a̶n̶y̶w̶h̶e̶r̶e̶ t̶h̶e̶y̶ w̶e̶r̶e̶ t̶y̶p̶i̶c̶a̶l̶l̶y̶ t̶o̶g̶e̶t̶h̶e̶r̶. H̶e̶ n̶e̶v̶e̶r̶ s̶a̶i̶d̶ a̶n̶y̶t̶h̶i̶n̶g̶ a̶b̶o̶u̶t̶ i̶t̶.
That was what he thought, at least. When it came to the day right before they moved, their parents made them hang out together again. Instead of what they may have typically done a while back, they opted to go on one last car ride together to talk one last time.
Winnie was beyond nervous, but to say he wasn’t excited was a lie. As much as he may have avoided acknowledging it, he missed the other dearly. D̶e̶s̶p̶i̶t̶e̶ w̶h̶a̶t̶ h̶e̶ w̶a̶n̶t̶e̶d̶ t̶o̶ b̶e̶l̶i̶e̶v̶e̶, h̶e̶ n̶e̶v̶e̶r̶ s̶t̶o̶p̶p̶e̶d̶ l̶o̶v̶i̶n̶g̶ h̶i̶m̶ a̶n̶d̶ t̶h̶a̶t̶ o̶n̶l̶y̶ m̶a̶d̶e̶ i̶t̶ h̶u̶r̶t̶ w̶o̶r̶s̶e̶.
He grabbed the nearest pair of glasses and rushed out the door.
A̶u̶g̶u̶s̶t̶i̶n̶e̶ u̶s̶e̶d̶ t̶o̶ j̶o̶k̶i̶n̶g̶l̶y̶ m̶a̶k̶e̶ f̶u̶n̶ o̶f̶ h̶i̶m̶ f̶o̶r̶ h̶a̶v̶i̶n̶g̶ t̶h̶o̶s̶e̶ o̶n̶e̶s̶ a̶n̶d̶ t̶a̶k̶i̶n̶g̶ t̶h̶e̶m̶ e̶v̶e̶r̶y̶w̶h̶e̶r̶e̶.
He found the other waiting for him outside, avoiding eye contact which Winnie didn’t blame him for. They got into the car in silence, the drive continued that way for a while.
Winnie didn’t know what to do, so he pretended nothing happened. He was too focused on making sure his legs don’t go numb while he’s driving, the last thing they needed was a car accident.
As if life was trying to make things hard for him intentionally, that's exactly what they found themselves set up for.
Stranded in a frozen car, suddenly in the middle of winter, dealing with situations beyond their comprehension after a fight in the car.
First staring at the frozen corpses of their child selves, being chased by an..elk-bear monstrosity, falling into what looked like an endless hole, the list went on..
Augustine was searching for a way to leave the entire time, to figure out what happened, but Winnie was unable to get himself to move or put in the same effort.
They were currently in his house, or what looked to be it, and Augustine was searching the rooms. He was sitting on the piles of boxes trying to think of something to help, trying not to freeze to his death.
His gaze lingered on the stairs as memories played out in his mind.
The day he fell down the stairs and broke his legs, the way Augustine left.
When he tripped and was found by someone else, when he waited for Augustine’s return before he passed out for it to never come.
When he truly started questioning the very core of their relationship.
He was not.. Angry. He was confused.
Months later, he still didn’t have an answer as to why. He didn’t know what they were anymore, and it hurt.
It hurt worse than anything, but he didn't blame the other. Augustine didn’t act without reason, he wasn’t the irrational type.
The phrase Augustine said moments before was looping endlessly in his head.
Before he fell- before Winnie LET him fall.
Begging him to hold onto his hands properly and pull him up.
“Please don’t let go. I’m your friend. We’re friends.”
The silence that followed will haunt him.
“We are friends, right?”
The same question he asked himself for months.
He was dragged out of his trance hearing mumbling behind him. Augustine was standing there, a dark look in his eyes.
Darker than Winnie had ever seen from him.
He was..worried.
“Auggie?”
The mumbling continued.
“Augustine? Hello?”
No response.
It took a while for the other to respond, he seemed just as confused as he was.
His chest felt heavy as they both stood there, while he could blame it on paranoia caused by the situation as they are both standing on top of a staircase reminding him of the fall, it wasn’t that.
They needed to talk.
They couldn’t go on like this, one of them needed to do something to break their silence.
Augustine tried and was either met with nothing before or what had happened when they were in the car, it was only right that he began.
“..We can’t go on like this.” He began.
Augustine’s eyes shot up to meet his and Winnie’s, and for the first time in a while he felt familiar.
He continued talking, only pausing to take a breath knowing if he stopped he would freeze up. For the first time in years, he saw himself getting through to his friend.
When he finished, he saw the way Augustine’s lips quivered, the way he shook slightly, he looked the most fragile he ever has. Like a single gust of wind could break him apart. Winnie hated seeing the one he looked up to and loved so dearly look that way, knowing he was part of the reason only made him hate it more.
The dams broke as Augustine’s words spilled out, years of struggle being put before his very eyes.
His chest felt tight, he never thought actions he never thought much of hurt the other this badly, yet here he was listening to it all.
Responding was something he didn’t feel himself do, more truthful than he ever was.
Pouring their hearts out in his house while it was snowing indoors was never something either of them expected to do, but here they were.
“There’s nothing in this world that can replace you.”
“I’m sorry…! I’m really sorry…!”
“I should’ve respected your line…!”
“I should’ve thought about how you’d feel, I should’ve put myself in your shoes…!”
“But I was too blinded by admiration back then that-”
“I couldn’t see that you were my one and only friend before my hero!”
“It must’ve been so frustrating… It must’ve been so upsetting…!”
“You don’t have to forgive me, I know apologizing now won’t change the past…”
“But I just want you to know this…!”
Winnie could hardly process a single word coming out of his mouth, Augustine stood in front of him with his mouth agape taking in everything.
He took that as an invitation to continue.
“You are the coolest and brightest person I have ever met in my whole life, Augustine!”
“I was only able to do all the things I’ve accomplished so far because you encouraged me back then…!”
“Because you gave me hope. You work hundreds, thousands, million times harder than me… And I remind myself every day how lucky I am to have ever met a friend like you…!”
“...-You’re amazing like that!-..”
Winnie’s heart ached at every tear that dropped, the other tried to stop but he couldn’t. They momentarily panicked when he couldn’t breathe through the tears, but it was only expected after such a long time of bottling everything up.
Everything felt worth it again when he saw his smile.
The one he knew, the smile that drew him in from the start.
This was the Augustine he knew.
They had to get back to reality, if his theory was correct then he knew how to do so.
They just needed to hurry up before their time runs out, Winnie believed in them, they could do it together.
He finally felt complete again, the hole in his heart filled simply by a single conversation.
Maybe he didn’t regret thinking about love all these years, all he needed was a reminder.
A reminder was exactly what he got, and he could not be more grateful for it.
For the first time in years, they were truly friends.
They were not alone.
———————————————
It had been around 3 months since the car accident.
Since the two were trapped in an upside down car, experiencing a world made up of their own horrors.
Since they finally, truly became the friends they always thought they were.
The speech they had, the chance to finally bond again and come clean about everything, took so much more weight off of Augustine's shoulders than he could have ever imagined it would. Sure, the cost was a broken leg, but it also meant that Winnie got to stay longer too.
Augustine could never describe how it felt looking at his friend again, finally seeing a friend rather than a competitor. Someone to relax around again rather than someone he was inferior to. Winnie did all he did to be like him of all people and all he saw were false attempts to tear him down and take his place.
Part of him can’t imagine that anymore, the same part that yearned to talk to Winnie again since the accident the winter before that. The same part that kept him up at night about not helping, not doing something, anything to help him when he fell down those stairs and broke his legs.
He had one broken leg and support yet he was still struggling, still healing from the consequences of it. It had made for a fun joke though, making Winnie bring or do stuff for him because as the driver it was easy to blame him for the crash and therefore the break. At first Winnie looked incredibly guilty when it was brought up, going silent before apologizing so unlike himself. It took a few weeks to get him to see it as the joke it was, but when that worked he never got to live it down.
It wasn’t like he seemed to mind though, frequently asking Augustine if he wanted anything else after he brought up the idea of feeling like having something of any sort and getting up on his own, even if it was merely a passing thought or mood.
It was…nice.
What was not nice on the other hand was the days itching closer to the new moving date.
Augustine finally healed, which meant Winnie would be moving soon.
He would leave to go to the college they both wanted. Oddly, instead of sparking feelings of anger or envy this time, he felt more melancholic about the thought.
As the day came closer and closer, a sense of emptiness overtook him. Winnie was the same, they hung together a lot more than they have in the last few years as a whole, but the departure always felt wrong.
Despite their talk, they both knew there were still words unsaid between them. Neither of them had the guts to come clean about them, but they both knew something was still missing.
Augustine’s realization came when he felt funny after hanging out with Winnie for a while. The taller had gotten tired after their outing, falling asleep on him at some point during their conversation. He didn’t notice at first, too distracted going on about some topic that came up. He was a man of strong opinions, and those opinions he was gonna tell.
He only noticed when the sound of soft snoring reached his ears. The blond was fully leaned up against him, sound asleep.
This was..the most relaxed Augustine saw him in some time. It had been a long time since they were in a position like that, he never counted, though.
He couldn’t help but stare, a̶d̶m̶i̶r̶i̶n̶g̶ looking at the other. He had changed over the years (obviously), both mentally and physically as expected. He was a lot taller now, as opposed to the little height difference they had as children. Despite that and his generally bigger build, he still carried that gentle air around him, something he welcomed, really. A threatening Winnie didn’t sound very entertaining, he’d know by now.
Only after Winnie left did he realize how much..lighter? He had felt it. Something was different, but not in the same way as before. It was good, or at least so he thought. It didn’t feel suffocating or unfamiliar.
…He had fallen again, hadn’t he?
Augustine tried to push that thought away for days, as the thought of it made his brain hurt too much to think about it. He couldn’t be bothered and quite frankly preferred to ignore the existence of those feelings as a whole! And so that's what he did.
Winnie would move soon, the feelings would fade, they’d go back to just being best friends and he’d NEEEVER have to think about it again!
..or that's what he’d hoped, and oh how wrong he was.
The days passed fast. Faster than they should have, both of them hated it but time wouldn’t slow down for them. Afterall, it’s their own fault they didn’t speak for a long time, they lost their spark and almost burned down their friendship entirely out of their own stupidity.
That's why it didn’t feel real when they had to say goodbye. They may have nearly split apart, but they were always near. Winnie never felt as comfortable as he did with Augustine around anyone else, and Augustine never felt complete without him there.
It made his stomach churn.
“Don’t you dare end up falling down another set of stairs in that college will you? I can’t help you there to pay this back” The brunette half heartedly complained, visibly struggling to come up with anything to say.
“I won’t, I won't! You don’t set things on fire in exchange, deal?” Winnie giggled.
“That was ONE time-”
“One too many!~”
The sound of a car horn cut Augustine off before he could throw a witty response back at his companion, Winnie’s parents telling them to hurry up before they were late.
Whatever happy mood they were in dissipated as fast as it originally came along, both of them going silent.
“..You’ll come back eventually, right?” Augustine asked in a voice far quieter, smaller, than Winnie ever wanted to hear from him. It wasn’t right.
“Of course I will!” he shot back almost immediately, almost offended the other thought that at all. Really who did he take him for?
“Good, who else would praise elks for existing the same way you do every christmas?” Going back to the previous atmosphere and feel of their conversation felt better than keeping the heavy feeling their goodbye gave. At least one last bit of entertainment for them.
Though it couldn’t last long, Winnie’s parents were clearly getting impatient to the point both boys saw it without sparing them more than a simple glance.
“They’re still better than your bears, but we might need to continue this conversation another time, being late is hardly ideal for moving again, you know?” Although it was meant to be a joke, Winnie’s tone failed to convey that, sounding more down than anything.
“Stay safe on the car ride then you idiot”
“That's hardly up to me,but I can try?”
“Good, I’ll never let it go in the afterlife if you don’t” The eyeroll Augustine did could be felt, without even looking at him.
“I get it I get it, goodbye for now then? I’ll be back as soon as possible, I promise you” Tone changing from his usual up-beat one, Winnie gave his friend the last hug they would have for a long time.
Augustine didn’t hesitate to return the hug, hardly keeping himself together at all.
“I guess so”
“Do you not even want to say anything to me anymore? Im hurt</3”
Augustine sighed, his mind felt like too much of a wreck to process the events that followed.
They both had to separate as Winnie walked to his parents’ car, whatever washed over Agustine really decided to do so at the worst time possible because not even a moment after the other had turned around, he found himself blurting out the one sentence he was trying to avoid and forget about for months.
‘I love you’
Every part of him that hoped Winnie didn’t hear him was let down as he paused and turned to look at the brunette, who was processing the fact those words came out of his lips at all.
Opposed to what he was expecting, the one in blue smiled at him with a smile more genuine than he has ever seen from him.
“That will be something else we talk about when I come back” he said, voice maintaining the calm feel it carried with it earlier in the conversation.
“I- uhm- oka. Yes, it will be” Augustine stuttered, trying to gather his nerves and thoughts as fast as possible. What was that??
“For the record, I love you too”
With that, he turned and ran to the car, not hearing whatever the other said after him. Whatever he yelled out was a topic they were to tackle later.
Finally, after 6 years of pining, Winnie no longer felt strange.
His love was requited.
#angst#fluff#ship#augustine orlov#cold front#cold front augustine#cold front game#cold front winnie#winnie bosko#augwin#gay gay homosexual gay#they kept getting inconvenienced#5 + 1 fic#fanfic#fanfiction
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Market Day
Thank you to @spacebarbarianweird for the Astarion x barbarian!Tav headcanons that inspired this fic!!
Summary: You drag some of your companions to the market to restock on supplies and run into a little spot of trouble
Today was Market Day, as you had come to coin it, where you and your companions would visit a nearby market to purchase various supplies, whether it be food, drink, weapons, potions, or anything anyone happened to need. With a slight skip in your step, you make your way into the marketplace, dragging along a weary vampire, a less than interested cleric and a very very reluctant wizard who wanted nothing more than to be fast asleep in his bedroll or be buried deep in a musty book.
“I don’t understand how you can be so cheerful this early in the morning,” Gale yawns, rubbing his eyes.
“Why was I chosen over Lae’zel to come along?” Shadowheart groans, dragging her feet along. Astarion looked the most alive among the three but you could tell he wanted to be anywhere but here.
“It’s a bright and sunny morning! There’s no better time than now to get all our shopping done!” You cheer, pumping your fist in the air.
“Why didn’t you invite Karlach along if you wanted some life in the party?” Astarion rolls his eyes, folding his arms across his chest. The market is rather quiet today, much to his distaste, for it meant there were less pockets to…well…pick. To you however, the lack of a crowd meant that there was more time to peruse the wares available without the person queuing behind you breathing down your neck to hurry it up, so you were more than happy about it.
“But I can be the life of the party!” You huff, giving him a pout. He should never have taught you how to gives puppy dog eyes, Astarion thinks to himself, watching as you give him your best shot at said eyes. He sighs in response, knowing you will never let this matter rest until he agrees with you and numbly nods.
“Of course you can, darling. Now, don’t we have quite a bit of shopping to do?”
With that, you’re off, heading towards the butcher while the others go their own ways to various shops of interest. Gale, to no one’s surprise, heads straight for the merchant selling a bunch of magical items while Shadowheart meanders around until a particular store selling carvings of the various gods catches her eye and she makes a beeline towards it. Astarion, meanwhile, looks for his first pocket to pick and eyes a rather wealthy human strutting around that made for easy pickings.
You quickly gather all the food items on the list and shove them all into your backpack, proud of the bargains you had made on your own. Astarion had been teaching you how to haggle, and although you were a slow learner, you were steadily getting better at it. Today proved as much. You couldn’t wait to tell him about the discount you had haggled from the fruit merchant and show him all his teachings hadn’t been for naught. As you made your way to Astarion who was at the other end of the market, something caught your eye — black leather bound book with words you couldn’t quite make out in gold lettering.
You go to take a closer look, curious. Did Astarion have this book? You don’t remember seeing such a cover before, would he appreciate the book? You weren’t even sure about the contents of the book, words always proved a challenge and you hated how you couldn’t just beat the words into submission so that you could read them.
“You can’t just beat up every problem you come across!” Astarion exlaimed when you angrily swore at the paragraph he had been trying to teach you to read.
“Everything would be so much easier if I could.” You huffed in response.
“Some things require a little more finesse, darling. Don’t you worry your beautiful self, leave such things to me.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead with a small smile.
The fond memory caused the corners of your lips to quirk up. Astarion had never once blamed you for struggling with learning how to read, he had been patient, as patient as he could be but had given up some time after. He had never pressed you to learn to read afterwards, instead he did all the reading for you which you very much preferred as you got to hear his melodious voice while understanding whatever was scrawled on the pages of the book you had looted from a corpse because you found the cover pretty.
“Didn’t know barbarians knew how to read, I thought they were all brawns and no brain.” A sneer comes from your right. The merchant selling the book you were looking at gives you a look of disgust and snatches it out of your grasp.
“Get your grubby hands off my wares,” he spits, “someone who lacks the intelligence needed to understand such fine craft shouldn’t be here in the first place.”
You scowl at him, a low rumbling erupting from your throat, “I may not be able to read but I sure as hells can understand what you’re saying.”
“The creature speaks!” The merchant feigns a gasp of surprise. You snarl, a hand moving towards your axe when a cold hand gently rests on your hand. Astarion meets your gaze, giving a small shake of his head and puts himself in between you and the merchant.
“It seems intelligence and basic common courtesy does not go hand in hand,” he says nonchalantly, but poison drips from every word. “To think a man so well-learned would only have the manners of a beast.”
The merchant glares at him but Astarion calmly looks them in the eye, a fake smile gracing his lips, “am I wrong?”
“This is none of your business, elf,” the merchant hisses.
“Oh, but the moment you insulted my lover, it became my business.” His unnerving smile remains plastered to his face, unsettling the merchant who was slowly losing confidence. “Now then, may I see this fine craft of yours?”
“Leave at once! You’re ruining my business!” The merchant snaps. “And I suggest getting yourself a better lover, maybe one not as daft as that barbarian.”
Astarion’s ruby eyes widen, a hand reaching for his dagger but you beat him to it. You grab the nearest and heaviest book you can find and slam it hard into the merchant’s face, “you can have your damned fine craft back! I don’t need it! I’d rather be illiterate than have to resort to insulting others to feel better about myself!”
Astarion chuckles, swiping a few books that caught his eye before grabbing the book you had been eyeing as well as your wrist and pulled you along, “come on, we better leave before the guards come to investigate the commotion.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice!” The two of you make a quick escape, disappearing into the nearby town before the authorities could catch either of you, giggling all the way.
Once Astarion is sure you’re far enough, he rounds the corner and stops to allow you to catch your breath. You pant, bending over with your hands on your knees but you’re grinning the widest grin you can muster.
“That! Was! Satisfying! You can beat up every problem you come across!” You laugh. Astarion doesn’t even bother to hide his smile, the merchant had deserved that blow to the face and better yet, had been robbed of some of his most prized wares.
“They had it coming,” he snorts, ruffling your hair. “We head back for the others once the heat has died down.”
“I’m sorry for ruining your shopping,” you rub the back of your neck sheepishly.
“It’s quite alright darling, I had finished pickpocketing all the rich people in the maket anyways.” Astarion waves a hand dismissively.
“Astarion!”
“I had quite the haul even, who knew there were so many gold necklaces just lying around unattended.”
“They were attended!”
“Well, clearly not attended enough.” He fishes one out and holds it out to you. “What do you think of this one?”
“It’s beautiful,” you breathe, tracing a finger along the precious chain.
“May I?” He holds out a hand to you and you gently place the necklace into his outstretched hand. He gestures for you to turn around and you comply, twiddling your fingers nervously. Would you looks good in it? It was definitely a very expensive necklace, something that should not lie on the necks of the likes of you and would sell for a large amount of gold but Astarion had chosen to slip it around your neck, a look of satisfaction clear on his face when he had you turn around so that he could admire his handiwork.
“Perfect. I knew it would look good on you, my taste is impeccable.” He crows. “I also have a dress for you, but that will have to wait until we’re back at camp, unless…”
“Back at camp back at camp!” You squawk, cheeks quickly heating up. Astarion leans in to press a quick peck to your lips, slipping his hand into yours.
“As you wish, my darling barbarian.”
#baldur's gate 3#bg3#astarion bg3#baldurs gate astarion#astarion x reader#astarion x you#astarion x tav#astarion romance#astarion ancunin#tav bg3#astarion x durge#tav x astarion#bg3 tav#bg3 fluff
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my musings on how to leave longer & more regular comments on fics:
We all know comments are good - readers have probably heard authors on tumblr talk about how valuable comments are for ages, and I hope most of the authors reading this have felt that validating joy first hand.
But we also all have lives, and only so much energy in a given day. Maybe you have worries about leaving a comment that's too "weird", or "awkward". Maybe you LOVE a fic, but have no idea how to put those strong emotions into words. Maybe you leave short comments, but wish you felt comfortable crafting the paragraph-long detailed comments that some readers gift to their favorite fics.
If you've ever thought about trying to comment more often, or trying to leave longer comments, then here are some ramblings of mine that will (hopefully!) bring comment-inspiration your way.
A quick table of contents:
Lower the mental stakes
How do I comment on porn?!?!?!?
My approach to paragraph-long commenting
My call to action: challenge yourself to go one step further
Lower the mental stakes:
When I first joined a writing discord, I was genuinely blown away at the amount of support and love the HRPF community contains. I was also blown away at the amount of people that were actually reading my works and messaging about them!! It is still one of the coolest feelings ever.
In my mind, this is an example of a "lower stakes" ways to talk about fics: messaging a friend, or a group chat, or a discord server.
It takes a lot less energy for me to type a rambling text about how much I love the fic I'm currently reading vs. typing a cohesive, well-thought out comment for the author themselves.
One of those two options is much more intimidating!
I want so badly to tell the author how much I love their fic, but I'll never find the time to write all the things they deserve to hear!! So the tab sits open on my phone for months, and the comment never gets written.
If you relate to this: try to lower the "mental stakes" of writing your comment. Remember: this is a fun thing!! Fic is fun!! And I promise, you don't have to write the "perfect" comment to make an author's day.
A potential solution: treat the comment box a bit more like a message to your group chat. Not in a rude way - let's stay polite to the writers in our community, and recognize when unsolicited feedback isn't wanted.
But instead of forcing yourself to always have the "perfect" comment, think of something lighter. Think of what you would text to a friend if you were going to send them a link to the fic: maybe "dude this fic is so funny you need to read it", OR "this is INSANELY good", OR "i've been reading this all morning you need to check it out right now".
Then write that!
Comment: "this fic is so funny oh my god. love it!"
Comment: "this is INSANELY good"
Comment: "SCREAMING. I LOVE THIS"
Comment: "i haven't been able to put this done all morning! sooooo good!"
Comment: "i read the first chapter of this fic and instantly knew i had to send it to all my friends. i love this so much!!!"
Also, this might just be personal preference but: a discord message can get lost to time. AO3 is an archive, and comments there are much easier to look back on!!
So send that discord message to the author in a server you're in - they're going to appreciate it so much!! But consider copy-pasting that as a comment in AO3 as well, no matter how short it might be. It means a lot!!
How do I comment on porn?!?!?!?
PWP fics are known to have a large number of hits, with less kudos and even less comments.
Listen. I get it.
Especially in a fandom like HRPF, where many fics are user-locked, it can be intimidating to comment with no chance to hide behind anonymity.
But remember this: anybody who might "see your username" has also clicked into that very same fic and gone alllllll the way to the end. We're all in this together!!! I promise!!
Maybe the actual logistics are difficult for you - how do I leave a comment on an 8k porn-no-plot fic?? how do I explain that I love this fic without making the author uncomfortable?? - so in that case, let me give a few brief ideas for you to work off of.
Some words I like to use a lot: dirty, nasty, HOTTTT, sexy, intimate, vivid.
If you're feeling especially blindsided by the Everything of it all: i like to throw in a good "stupidly hot". "my brain is melting out of my ears". "soooooo dirty nasty hot". "WHEWWWW this is making me feel insane".
Don't overthink it!!!! Speak your truth!!!
And, final point: don't be afraid to highlight specific favorite parts, like you would with any other fic! Say it with your chest! If you liked the frottage, then say "the thigh riding was sooooo stupidly hot". I promise, the author put it in because they also thought the same thing!!!! It's going to make their day (and maybe result in more fics with that same favorite part of yours).
My approach to paragraph-long commenting:
I just want to reiterate: there is no right or wrong way to write a comment. But here's the general breakdown of how I think about leaving more detailed comments, if you want some ideas.
I copy snippets from the fic that call out to me as I read
I go into my clipboard to paste them all into the comment box
I write 1-2 sentences about WHY i copied down that specific snippet
Sometimes, it might be hard to know exactly why you were so affected by a given line. Here's some things you might especially appreciate in a fic:
Characterization: maybe the dialogue felt especially realistic. maybe the character's decisions made a lot of sense to you. maybe the way two characters interact is just exactly how you picture it. write that down in one sentence!! done!
Prose/writing style: maybe the line was a really gorgeous metaphor, piece of dialogue, etc. copy and paste that shit into your comment + add some "!!!"s, or maybe a single sentence like "this is so so gorgeous" or "INSANE metaphor" or "beautiful prose i'm chewing on glass"
The plot: "I have no idea where this is going next, and I can't wait to find out" / "OH MY GOD THE CLIFFHANGER"
The emotions you felt while reading it: this one's an easy one I promise! "the way you wrote [CHARACTER]'s pain hurt sooooo good" / "this is making me feel ill" / "i actually gasped out loud on the bus" / "i'm so nervous for the next chapter" / "i'm SO excited by where this fic is going" / "i teared up reading this"
A long comment will come organically & very easily, even if you only have 2 copy-pasted snippets!! And the author gets to hear very specific feedback about exactly what you're enjoying - that's SO unbelievably rewarding to hear.
So, my personal call to action: challenge yourself to go one step further!
If you don't usually leave comments: try leaving one or two one-line comments this week. Throw in a quick "i love this!!" next to that kudos!
If you usually leave one-line comments: try leaving a couple sentences! describe one specific thing you liked about the fic, or one specific emotion you had.
If you often leave comments on the fics of people you know: try going outside your comfort zone and commenting on a stranger's fic. you got this!
Push yourself one step further, whatever that means for you! It's such a beautiful thing, to be able to read and love and discuss fic in a shared community, and it's worth the effort!
If you've read my ramblings the whole way through: thank you!!!! This was mainly an outlet for me to put all my thoughts into real words, and I sort of can't believe you read all the way through. <3
I welcome any and all additions to this post!!!! The more we talk about commenting, and the more we comment, the more this community grows - and that's a positive thing for all of us, readers and writers alike.
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Jeno & Jaemin ღ Two makes a Team [M]
ღ NCT Dream Jeno & Jaemin x fem!reader ღ words: ~4k ღ genre: established poly-relationship AU, domestic fluff turned smut (dom!Jeno, dom!Jaemin, multiple orgasms, praise, some hair pulling, reader gets spanked once, nipple play, overstimulation, handjob, fingering, oral, spitroasting, unprotected sex) ღ warnings: (reader gets pulled by the hair)
Desc.: When both your boyfriends distract you by asking you for kisses, one thing leads to another and what you had planned to be some alone time with a good book turns into something even better…
It’s a Sunday afternoon, a day you usually spend relaxing at home. You’ve made yourself comfortable on the couch, a blanket wrapped around your lap and a cup of tea placed on the coffee table in front of you. In your hands you’re holding a book that you’re about halfway finished with, and as your eyes are skimming through the many lines and pages, you’re so immersed in the story that you don’t notice someone approaching you.
“Y/N.” Only when he calls out to you softly, you take notice of him.
“Hmm?” you hum absentmindedly, as you register Jaemin sitting down next to you. Without taking your gaze off the book, you ask, “Is it important?”
“Veeery,” he answers, lazily dragging out the vowel, and he puts his arm on the backrest of the couch right behind you. He sits beside you, so close that you can feel his presence next to you, warmth radiating off of him. You tear yourself away from the page after finishing the next paragraph, turning your head to look at him. There’s sleepiness drooping from his eyelids, and you wonder if he just took a nap or if he pulled an all nighter yesterday.
“What is it?” you question, already beginning to dread what important thing he might have to tell you. “Is the stove acting up again? Did something break?” Jaemin shakes his head, a broad grin forming on his lips. “Then what?” you wonder out loud.
“It appears…” he begins, pausing dramatically, “that I am…” he adds another pause, lifting his chin a bit and making you raise an eyebrow at him, “in dire need of kisses.”
For a moment you’re speechless, because he really just needs to make something like that seem like a big deal, but then you remember it’s not the first time he’s being dramatic about wanting a kiss, so you sit back and relax your shoulders.
“And that’s what you needed to interrupt my precious reading time for?” you ask, feeling the corners of your mouth involuntarily rising up. “You’re so dumb,” you whisper, and before he can talk back at you in offense, you lean in and press your lips against his for a short peck. “Happy now?” you ask as you withdraw, already shifting your attention back to your book.
“That’s all?” he asks. “Is your boyfriend not worth more than a tiny peck?” He seems seriously offended, but when you see the playful spark in his eyes, you know he’s mostly joking around.
“Fine,” you give in. “I’ll give you a proper kiss if you let me read after that.”
“Hmmmm…” he pretends to consider your offer, pursing his lips, until eventually he agrees. “Alright.” Taking one hand off the book in your lap, you comb your fingers through his hair, resting your palm at the back of his neck eventually. As you lean in, you can see him smile at you, and the moment you lock lips with him, you feel him kissing you back. He lets you take the lead, moving his lips against yours at the unhurried pace you set, and giving you permission to deepen the kiss as soon as you slip your tongue past his teeth. When you pull away, breaking the kiss, he seems more than satisfied, but when you hear someone gasp from across the room, you both turn your heads in shock.
“Wait, why is he getting kisses?” Jeno complains from the other side of the living room, and you sigh, finding the jealousy in your other boyfriend’s face.
“Because I asked for them,” Jaemin retorts, a teasing grin sitting on his lips as he leans back and watches Jeno’s expression become even more disgruntled. He’s definitely amused with this situation, whereas you’re not sure how to feel about it.
“Whatever…” you sigh, placing your hand flat on the book you can’t wait to keep reading. Then you signal Jeno to come over to you by pointing your chin at him, and then towards the empty spot on the sofa to your right. He doesn’t hesitate to approach you, smiling like a puppy that had just been praised and plopping down on the couch next to you. Just when you’re about to lean in, Jaemin interrupts you.
“Oh, I have to work for it, but if he just gives you puppy eyes once you give in?” he complains in offense, and you merely retort,
“Oh shut up.” Then, your lips meet Jeno’s, whose hand comes up to cup your cheek, and he smiles into the kiss. Warmth spreads in your chest, but still you tear yourself away.
“Can I read now?” you ask, a bit annoyed at the two, and when you sense Jaemin placing his chin on your shoulder to pout at you from up close, you assume the answer is no. “Please,” you add.
“Another kiss to make up for it?” he asks, and heat rushes to your cheeks as you turn your head to find his adorable expression right in front of you.
“Make up for what?”
“For being so hard on me!” You can tell he’s still playing with you, but you also know he isn’t going to let you off the hook so easily. So you merely sigh, before kissing him again.
Lips moving against Jaemin’s, you forget about the other guy being there for a moment, until you feel a warm touch against your exposed neck. You moan into the kiss, before correctly identifying the soft texture as Jeno’s lips. When you don’t break the kiss with your other boyfriend despite that, Jeno sinks his teeth into your skin, making you gasp.
“What-” you whirl around to complain, but your lips are immediately met with Jeno’s, who now places one hand on your thigh and the other behind your neck. The book is lifted off your lap, and you’re assuming Jaemin is putting it away, before you can feel his lips nipping at the delicate skin on the side of your throat instead.
“Not fair…” he mutters, just as Jeno releases you in order to bury his face in your nape as well. You moan at their touches, and while Jaemin brings his hand up to rest his palm on your other thigh, Jeno’s fingertips slip under your shirt to dance up your stomach.
“Guys…” you breathe, as the angel and devil on your shoulders start a fight - one just wanting to continue reading, the other begging to let yourself give in to their touches.
“Hmm?” Jaemin hums close to your ear, and you can feel him grin against your skin. Meanwhile Jeno keeps scattering kisses all over, working his way up to your jaw and causing you to lean your head back in the process. A shiver runs down your spine when you feel the former pressing his lips onto your pulse.
“How about… you just let me finish this chapter…?” you suggest, but by now you’re not sure anymore if that’s really the thing you want the most at the moment.
“Is a book really more important than us?” Jeno questions, and you know that you can’t possibly answer yes.
“I mean…” you mutter, but fail to finish your sentence as he comes back up to your lips, sharing a deep kiss with you. Again, the kiss is broken due to the shenanigans of the other, because you end up throwing your head back when Jaemin peels the blanket off you, sliding his palm up the inside of your thigh.
“What?” he questions, not taking his gaze away from you as he begins teasing you through your sweatpants. “You’d rather have your book than this?” You give him a pleading look, and when Jeno’s hand finds your breasts under your shirt, you squeeze your eyes tightly shut. That’s when you give in to your body’s desires, and you earn a chuckle from both of them as you shake your head.
“That’s right,” Jeno mutters right beside your ear, before kissing a trail down. “We’ll take care of you.” He alternates between massaging your boobs and squeezing your nipples between his thumb and index finger, while you spread your legs apart a bit further to give Jaemin better access to your core. “So needy,” Jeno whispers, sinking his teeth into your soft skin. On the other side of your throat, you feel Jaemin’s breath tickling you just below your ear as he exhales.
“You want more?” he asks, voice low, and you feel a rush of heat straight to your core.
“P-please…” you answer, sounding desperate.
“Then you’ll need to give us something in return.” He removes his hand from where you want him the most for a second, reaching for your wrist to guide your hand to the bulge in his pants, and almost automatically, your other hand finds the same spot on Jeno.
“Good girl.” You receive a praise from him for that, and when you start to palm them both through their pants, the groans that escape them sound like music to your ears. While Jeno captures your chin with his free hand to make you face him so he can proceed to kiss you, Jaemin slips his hand past the waistband of your sweatpants, pushing the fabric of your panties aside to touch you directly. You moan into the open-mouthed kiss when he begins to circle his fingertip on your clit, and you buck your hips as a way of begging for more, all while trying to stay focused on pleasuring the both of them in return. Jeno breaks the kiss for air, while you can hear Jaemin mutter a curse under his breath, just before sliding two fingers inside you with ease, making you whine.
“Keep going,” he urges you on, bucking his hips into your palm, “Don’t stop.” You nod with determination, but the pleasure of having both their hands on you clouds your mind, and you’re not sure how much longer you will last. Jeno eventually pulls your shirt off you, tossing it aside, and then he grabs a few strands of your hair close to the roots, tugging at them, while tending to your chest with his other hand and his mouth. His tongue swirling around one of your nipples while his fingers take care of the other, along with Jaemin’s fingers curling inside you and his thumb pressing against your clit makes you feel like you’ll go crazy any second now.
“Fuck… f-feels so good…” you whine. “I’m-… I’m gonna-” Your orgasm comes crashing down on you, moaning curses and both their names, and for a while you completely forget to keep moving your hands, resting on their bulges that have grown to the point they’re painfully stretching out the fabric of their pants. Still, at least Jaemin seems to have no plans to make you get him off for now, because after you’ve come down from your high, he pulls out carefully and then quickly tears your pants and underwear off you. Before you can register what’s happening, you already find him kneeling in front of you, trailing sloppy kisses up the inside of your thigh.
“Need to taste you…” he mutters, and when his tongue meets your still overstimulated clit, you whine and a shiver shakes your whole body. Jeno kisses his way from your chest back up to your lips, his hands starting to roam your entire body until eventually he grips onto your waist to keep you in place, while your other boyfriend starts to eat you out. You whine from the pleasure of him circling the tip of his tongue around your clit skillfully, and you cry out as he slides his fingers back into your dripping pussy with ease.
“J-jaemin…” you stutter out his name as Jeno’s lips leave yours for a short while.
“You taste so sweet, baby,” he mumbles, sending vibrations up your core, before going right back to tending to your clit.
“Hnng… fuck, Jaemin… s-so good…” you cry out, when Jeno harshly grabs your chin to make you look at him.
“I’m here too,” he growls, and without leaving you time to say anything back, he smashes his mouth against yours, sinking his teeth into the tender flesh of your bottom lip. You moan, looking for something to hold onto and eventually finding Jeno’s shirt. You wrap your fingers around the fabric tightly, tugging at it involuntarily as the pleasure builds up with each of Jaemin’s movements inside you. Jeno pulls you head back by your hair in order to expose the delicate skin on your throat, attaching his lips to it and starting to suck a hickey onto your neck, while you continue moaning uncontrollably.
“F-fuck…” you curse through gritted teeth, and eventually you cry out as your second orgasm hits you. You clench around your boyfriend’s fingers, and when he pulls out a few seconds later, he comes back up, pushing Jeno aside as he crawls on top of you. Tongue licking your juices off his digits, he brings up his other hand to cup your cheek, thumb caressing your swollen lips. And then he leans in for a kiss, making you taste yourself on him as he moves his lips against yours hungrily. When you part, you’re both out of breath, his eyes dripping with honey as he takes in the sight in front of him. You must look fucked out already, but when Jeno shoves the other guy off of you, you know they’re far from done with you.
“Not fair…” he pouts, running his hand down your body, nails digging into your skin. “He always gets everything first.”
“What…?” you mumble, but when Jeno begins trailing lazy kisses down your torso, you understand what he’s planning. Without thinking, you bury your hand in his hair, and you wince when he presses a kiss against your wet cunt. Jeno’s lips wrap around your clit, sucking carefully at first, and he’s cautious to keep his touches soft, as he’s well aware that you’re still overstimulated.
“Jeno…” Now it’s his name that’s falling from your lips, when you hear Jaemin chuckling right beside you.
“He’s really good at that, huh…” he comments, smiling down at the other guy while taking your hand away from his head. Only now you realize that he’s pulled his own pants down a bit, and he leads you to his hard length. You wrap your fingers around it as he gives you a smile, and for a second his eyelids flutter shut as you begin to move your hand up and down slowly. Then, he replaces your hand atop Jeno’s head, ruffling through his hair a few times. “Really, really good,” Jaemin mutters under his breath, making it sound both like praise and teasing.
Jeno slides two fingers inside you, curling them up against that perfect spot as his sucking on your clit becomes harsher - probably to distract you from getting off the other guy. It’s as if they’re fighting over your undivided attention, except that Jeno seems to be the only one fighting, while Jaemin seemingly remains amused by the situation no matter where it’s going.
“You’re doing well too,” the guy sitting beside you whispers into your ear, before he trails feathery light kisses down the side of your face. When he reaches your neck, you moan in appreciation, trying your best to focus on the way you’re moving your fist up and down his cock, but with Jeno slowly eating you out, it’s hard to concentrate on anything, really. He takes his time with it, but somehow the way he pumps his fingers in and out of you, and the way his mouth is tending to your clit are more intense than when Jaemin was in his position just a few minutes ago. Jeno looks up at you, forcing you to hold eye contact with him, and you can unmistakably see the hunger in his stare.
“Don’t stop.” Jaemin’s words cause you to look away from the other guy, and he takes his fingers out of Jeno’s locks to wrap them around your hand, guiding you to move faster up and down his length. He throws his head back at the friction, moaning a curse under his breath, and so do you as Jeno carefully sinks his teeth into your sensitive bud as a warning. As if he wanted to tell you to focus on him only, he shoots you an intense gaze, and the moans get stuck in your throat as his fingers speed up. He pushes in a third one, stretching you out a bit.
“Look at me, Y/N,” he orders, taking his lips away from your cunt for a moment. Then he dives back in, and you cry out from pleasure as his tongue quickly darts over your clit. You can see your next orgasm approaching, and you shut your eyes tightly.
“D-don’t stop… please, Jeno… don’t s-stop…!” Your high comes crashing down on you and you feel yourself clenching hard around his fingers. Both of them let you catch your breath as you come down from your high, your mind filled with nothing but utter bliss. However, they’re not done with you yet.
Your eyes find Jaemin first as he takes off his shirt, and you let your gaze wander from his chest to his abs, tracing the lines of his skin, before you turn to look at Jeno and find him topless as well. Both of them slip out of their pants, and you gulp, eyeing them with curiousity, as you can only wonder what they’re planning to do to you now.
“Babe…” Jeno is the first to call out to you, holding out his hand for you to take. He pulls you up onto your feet, holding you tight as your legs are still shaking from the orgasms your boyfriends gave you, and he kisses you in fervour. With his hand placed on the small of your back, he presses your body against his, deepening the kiss in the process. At the same time you feel Jaemin’s hands on your hips, and his lips nipping at the skin at the back of your neck and on your shoulders while he presses his hard on against your ass.
“I have an idea,” he mutters, fingers squeezing your flesh, and he scatters a few more kisses on your skin before he continues. “Get on your knees…” Jeno releases you, breaking the kiss, and you turn around in his hold. Your hands naturally find their way into Jaemin’s, fingers intertwining as he steadies you. You do as told, sinking down onto the ground, and you have a hunch what he’s planning.
“You too,” he proceeds to order, this time directed at Jeno. Then, he lets go of one of your hands, only to capture your chin in his grip, making you look up at him. “How about we try something… you suck me off… while Jeno takes you from behind.” Excitement runs through your body, and you feel a new wave of heat rushing to your core. You nod obediently, perking up your ass and you gasp when Jeno’s hand flies to your behind, spanking you. Tingly pain spreads where he slapped the skin, and he immediately goes over to rubbing soothing circles on the spot. Then his hand moves towards your entrance, and he loses no time to push his fingers inside once more, finding you soaking wet and more than ready for his cock. You throw him a pleading look over your shoulder, and he runs his hands up your back and then down your sides.
“I’ll fuck you so good,” he mutters, leaning down to kiss a trail up your spine, and then he wraps his fingers around his length to give himself a few strokes in preparation. Aligning his tip with your cunt, he takes a hold of your hips, and giving them a gentle squeeze, he asks, “You ready, babe?”
“Y-yeah,” you stutter in expectation, and when he pushes inside you, you moan, falling forward and being caught by Jaemin who’s now kneeling in front of you. Enjoying that perfect feeling of being filled up, you get on all fours, and you peek up to see Jaemin giving you an encouraging nod. He cups your face in his palm, running his thumb over your cheek once, and then he watches as you lift one hand off the ground to reach for his cock. You take him into your mouth slowly, while Jeno holds still and waits, swirling your tongue around the tip at first, but soon feeling Jaemin impatiently pushing further inside. In that moment, Jeno as well starts thrusting, groaning from the pleasure of finally being inside you, and all you can do is moan as the other guy begins to slowly fuck your mouth. You squeeze your eyes shut when he hits the back of your throat, gagging on his length and leading him to be more careful with his movements, while Jeno doesn’t hold back anymore. His thrusts are slow but strong, and everytime he pushes all the way back inside, you moan, sending vibrations up Jaemin’s cock. He has one hand buried in your hair, tugging at the strands whenever you lure a groan out of him.
“I’m… almost there…” His hips stutter, and you get ready to receive his load. You look up at him, fucked out and still pleading for whatever your boyfriends have to give, and it pushes him over the edge as he spills into your mouth with one more thrust. You do your best to swallow everything, licking the remainder of his cum off your lips after he pulls out. Meanwhile, Jeno speeds up again, and eventually he wraps his arms around your upper body, pulling you into an almost upright position. You whine in surprise and you squeeze your eyes shut, but you’re quick to relax in his hold as one of his hands finds its way to your core, fingertips rubbing against your clit while you’re trying your best to keep your back arched for him to be able to fuck you properly. And then you feel a pair of lips against yours - Jaemin kissing you sloppily, as he himself is still catching his breath. He moves further down, mouth exploring your neck and collarbones, and his hands land on your breasts, starting to play with your nipples. The overstimulation makes you whine and moan and curse, leaving you unable to have a single clear thought as it’s about to drive you insane. With their hands all over you and Jeno’s thrusts getting harder as he seems to be coming close to his release as well, you find another orgasm is approaching at light speed. Before you know it, you’re coming undone in between the two of them. You collapse into Jaemin’s arms, who catches you safely, and you keep whining as Jeno picks up speed for a few more thrusts until eventually, he cums too.
While you attempt to catch your breath, safely resting in Jaemin’s embrace, Jeno fetches you some towels to clean yourselves a bit. All gathering on the couch, you hide underneath the blanket that’s barely big enough for the three of you. But you don’t mind, since that merely means you will have to move closer together for everyone to be covered.
“I’ll run us a bath, how about that?” Jeno eventually proposes, and you nod, smiling at the thought of a relaxing bubble bath.
“What about your book?” Jaemin asks, and as if the answer wasn’t obvious, you raise an eyebrow at him.
“Don’t think I can read in this state…” you say, “Bath sounds better.” Jeno lets out a breathy laugh, and then he presses a kiss onto your cheek.
“I’ll carry you if you want,” he mumbles. “And Jaemin can take care of making dinner while we’re gone.” You chuckle at his words, and before the other guy can complain about Jeno's attempt at having you all to himself, you quickly press a kiss onto his lips.
“That’d be great,” you say.
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This is a departure from what I usually do, but I'm hiring a bunch of people at my work right now and thought I'd leave you some tips in case you're going to be job searching anytime soon. Disclaimer: nothing applies to everyone, etc, whatever. I work in higher ed as a staff member which is big and bureaucratic and of like a dysfunctional nonprofit, but this will apply to many other jobs/industries as well.
tl;dr: make your resume relevant and clean, customize and personalize your cover letter, use every interview question as the chance to share an experience from a previous job that makes you look good, and remember the answer is never just "no."
Resume Tips
Include past job history for 5 years if you're young or 10 years if you're older. If your only experience isn't directly relevant (ex: you've only worked in fast food and it's a receptionist job), frame the duties in ways that make it seem more relevant, such as "customer service" instead of "500 hot dogs a day."
include dates of employment -- i fyou don't, i assume you have something to hide (you got fired after 3 months)
Each job should have 3-5 bullet points describing the duties. Don't lie, but you can make them sound cool. "Answered the phones" could be "First point of contact for all clients and contractors."
Format it so I can read it. I should easily be able to see position, company, dates, and duties. The page should have a decent amount of white space so my eyeballs don't explode, but it's very obvious if you have nothing to say and are making the margins big to make it look full. Don't do that!
Cover letter Tips
WRITE ONE, oh my god. We asked for resume and cover letter for the application and automatically rejected everyone who didn't write one. I know they suck, but if you're applying for the job, actually apply for the job.
Address it to the right person/job. We are hiring for a case manager, and we got several that said things like "i look forward to joining your company as a project specialist" or whatever. (a) not a company, (b) not a project specialist. I KNOW you use a template that you update for each job you apply to, but you have to actually update it, buddy.
Customize it. "I will bring valuable skills to your company" is nothing. That's meaningless. I ignore that. The cover letter is for you to tell me why you'd be a good fit for my job, not a job.
The format can be: "Dear X, I am writing to enthusiastically apply to the position of [job] at [company]." Paragraph on your related experience. Paragraph on why what you can bring is perfect for what they specifically need (include something you learned from your research on their website for bonus points). A sentence or two on what excites you about this job. "Thank you very much for your time and consideration, Your Name."
Interview Tips
Be on time. Dress in a way that demonstrates effort (like a button down shirt). If you have a natural resting bitch face, try not to for the interview.
If you're doing it in person (not on zoom or phone) bring something to write things down on, like a notepad. This is where you can keep your questions for them, as well as jot down ideas that occur to you as they're asking the question. Don't use your phone, it looks unprofessional.
Write down questions in advance that you have for them. DO NOT ask about pay or benefits or vacation (you can do that later). You can ask things like "what would a typical day in this role look like?" or "how would you describe the company culture?" or whatever. if you've done research, the more specific questions you can ask, the better. "I'd love to hear about the origins of X project, which I was reading about on your website." Nice.
Every question is a chance for you to share a specific story from your work history that paints you in a positive light. If they ask "How would you organize all of our client files?" don't say "in a filing cabinet or hard drive." That's because I know about filing cabinets and hard drives; assume the interview isn't stupid. You can say, "At my previous role, we had a lot of client files and what I did to organize them was ____." I KNOW you don't know how I organize my files, and that's okay because you don't work here yet. What I'm really asking is, "do you understand the ways that not organizing things is bad, and have you had experience with organizing similar stuff in an effective manner? Prove to me I can trust you with my files."
Do not ever speak about yourself or your previous job negatively. If they ask why you're leaving your current job (they shouldn't), be vague and polite. You're "looking for a new challenge," or "my current position has taught me a lot, and while it's really great, my future career goals are much more in line with [something this company or job does]."
If they ask about your experience with something you have zero experience with, like "have you used salesforce" and you're like, bro, no, i worked at wendy's, YOUR ANSWER IS NEVER JUST "NO." You can say something vaguely positive about yourself like "I haven't, but I learn new systems quickly and that's something I'm really looking forward to learning and becoming fluent with in this role" or you can mention something similar, like, "I haven't used salesforce, but my previous role used a different database to manage our client contacts and [some stuff you think is relevant about that and how good at it you are]."
Questions? feel free to ask!
#job interviews#applying to jobs#job advice#job application advice#resume#cover letter#job interview
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