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#[ anyways what's written on the post is something people should really know ]

strang3lov3 · 1 day

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Holy fuck! Not one, but TWO milestones to celebrate!

Sometime in April I hit 5000 followers and I was gonna celebrate then, but with my one year fic anniversary gbu899i (< my cat Gizmo typed this, we're leaving it here. Everyone wave to him) and mostly because the end of the semester right around the corner, I decided to wait until May in order to give this the attention it deserves. Here we are! May 10th marks one year of me writing fic here on tumblr, and I want to celebrate both achievements.

Your support has played such a vital role in making writing such a gratifying hobby of mine. Whether you’ve been here since I started writing a year ago or just recently stumbled across my blog, it means the world to me. Having people read, like, reblog, comment, and engage with my fics is beyond fucking incredible. You keep me inspired to keep writing.

It’s not easy for me to stick to a hobby for a year. Ask the 20% finished afgan I started knitting two years ago that hasn’t been touched in months!! It’s beyond cool to have both a date on the calendar and such a pretty number to reflect how hard I’ve worked, and neither the date nor the number would be possible without you. Thank you 🩷

So we’re gonna celebrate. I haven’t done one of these before, unless you count the time I hit 2000 followers and said “send me requests!” and then did just one of them and zero others because I was so overwhelmed. So we’re taking a slightly different approach this time…

I’m thinking an extended sleepover, lol. Depending on how many participate, for a week or so you can send me asks from the prompts below and we’ll have some fun with them.

@noxturnalpascal and @beefrobeefcal heavily inspired these choices with their recent follower celebrations 🩵

🐈‍⬛ Show and tell - send me pics of your pets, or Pedro if you don’t have any pets, brownie points for Kieran Culkin pics, or anything else that you love. And tell me all about it, and I’ll show you something I love! 👯‍♀️ I want to get to know each other better, so tell something about yourself or ask something about me. If you want, you can use this and this (⬅️ two send an emoji posts) for prompts 🏞️ Request a Moodboard (my favorite) I love doing moodboards, just tell me what you wanna see and I’ll do my best. 🗳️Send me a poll that you wanna see! Ask any question, let us all decide the answer. 🍆 Send me your dirty horny old man headcanons. I’m a horndog for some old men and I can’t change who I am. 📖 Send me your own writing (or another’s work that you love) I actually have a summer reading project where I’ve tagged each and every one of my mutuals to send me their own works for me to read all summer. So consider this just an extension of that- please send me the links to works you’ve written and/or works you’ve read and enjoyed so that I can enjoy them too and support fellow writers ✍️ 🩷 I enjoy just about anything, but I have a soft spot for dark/dub-con, masturbation, uhhhh anything hot and dirty like that. 👩‍💻Request some writing. I can do Joel, Roman Roy, and I’m maaaybe feeling brave about Frankie. @beefrobeefcal has dibs on my first Frankie fic anyway. Horny and debauched thots encouraged, dare I suggest dark as well? Fluff too, though I think I suck balls at writing it. I’ve been told I should do drabbles,,, that’s not really how I roll with my writing but I’m willing to try. It’s entirely possible and actually likely you’ll get a full length fic, in which case, it’ll take some time to get those done so bear with me. Depending on how many requests for writing I get, I may cut off requests at a certain point too. *It’s also possible I won’t jive with your idea, in which case please don’t feel bad. I only want to write something I feel I can do well, and if I can’t, that’s not on you.

GOD I am a rambler. I could have said so much less. But I hope to hear from some of you all and have some fun! Love you love you love you.

Tagging some friends, readers, and mutuals who’ve made writing what it is for me 🩷 I love you all @ievutebebe @pinkypromisepascal @yazsos @heartfairy @magpiepills @medellintangerine @merz-8 @bitchesuntitled @theweedisasterxoxo @covetyou @theywhowriteandknowthings @futuraa-free @smok3r7 @toxicanonymity @atticrissfinch @xdaddysprincessxx @whatsnewalycat @addictedtotlou @littlevenicebitch69 @marisferasiop @joelsgreys @just-some-random-blogger @ghostlovesbaguettes @sweetenerobert @swiftiegirliepop @joeloverture @dorims @munsonhoneybaby @umnitsa @nostalxgic @yazsos @rainbowcosmicchaos @rav3n-pascal22 @604to647 @starry-eyes-love @paleidiot @bluecookies-and-ink @beardedjoel @aestheticisinq @corazondebeskar @axshadows @kyloispunk @survivingandenduring @pedroswife69 @bean-is-reading @pedroshotwifey @casa-boiardi @knittingandfanfics @molt3ngold @worhols @iknowisoundcrazy @nostalxgic @pattwtf @cerridwen007 @corozondebeskar @blackmetalamazon @jazzysnazzys @sheepdogchick3 @alltheseperfectimperfections @mermaidgirl30

#````erdstrang3lov3 #<<another thing my cat typed #he loves apostrophes #strang3lov3 celebration #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #roman roy x reader #roman roy smut #frankie morales smut #frankie morales x reader

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reblog-house · 23 hours

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The Mail Service Mess

Written for Hermit-a-day-May, day 11: Pearlypop!

Wc: 1013

Ao3: Here!

Pearl looked in pride at the board displaying the names of hermits. Yet again one more hermit with a new mailbox. Soon, the whole server would have one! The board was already starting to look bright.

With a smile on her face, she adjusted her messenger bag and turned around.

Chaos.

The post office was littered with shulker boxes in item form. Across the floor, her desk, everywhere. They kept pouring down in a stream like a leaky tap.

She stood in shock for a moment, mouth agape, before her cleaning lady instincts kicked in.

She’d already been subject to something like this before.

Without even thinking about it, she started picking the boxes. They quickly filled her inventory and she started stuffing them into her bag, but it somehow wasn’t enough. Just how many shulkers were there? When she thought she’d gotten everything and nothing would despawn, a new set poured in.

“Come on, come on,” she said as she looked for an empty chest to use. “There we go!”

Her heart was racing and her body shook with adrenaline as the fear of items despawning set in.

The worst part was, she wouldn’t be able to tell if anything despawned, or if they had already started despawning before she turned around. Just how long ago did the mess start for it to get that bad? What were these people even sending?

She felt the temptation to peak into at least one of the shulkers, to know what started this mess, but no. She contained herself. It wouldn’t be professional of her, and she had to deal with this mess, anyway.

Soon, the shulkers stopped raining. Finally. She sighed, but it wasn’t over yet. It wouldn’t be until all the boxes were well taken care of.

The second double chest filled up and she scrambled for wood for a new one.

Two and a half.

Two double chests of mail and a half.

She really wasn’t looking forward to sorting all of these and resending those with clear addressees. No one had warned her this could happen. Not Etho nor Tango. Now she wished there was a way to put the stamps directly on the shulkers and still have the system functional. It would make… all of this much easier.

What were even the normal procedures for events like this? Should she send a message telling the hermits to reclaim all their lost packages — both those they expected to receive and those they’d sent? How would she know they weren’t lying?

No, she trusted her hermits. It would be fine. And if she caught anyone stepping out of line, they’d receive a big talking to. Her team would back her up if needed, but she could stand her ground.

But first things first, they had a bug to fix before it got worse.

She pulled out her comms and sent Etho a message. He was online.

<PearlescentMoon> Hey Etho!

<PearlescentMoon> I really need your help at the Post Office

<PearlescentMoon> I don’t know what happened

<PearlescentMoon> Please hurry

She pocketed it and set to work.

As she waited for a reply, she prepared two extra double chests for sorting purposes, and took out from the system a first shulker box. Better start sorting: those with clear recipients, those with clear senders, and those with neither.

Despite feeling uneasy, the only way to check for that was by opening the packages.

The first box only had two items: a flower, and a sheet of paper. She tried not to read the contents of the letter, focused instead on checking for a signature, even if it was just an initial.

It was hard not to read the words sprawling all over the page.

‘you make my day x’

She awed and then closed the shulker box. There was nothing that indicated to whom it was addressed or the owner, so she sadly had to place it in the ‘unknown’ chest.

She went on to the second package.

Again, a flower and another sheet of paper.

‘always in my mind x’

Okay, another one of those.

She tentatively reached for the next shulker, feeling trepidation in her gut.

This one had a signed book and a Cleo stamp. Okay, she knew exactly what this was about. She should probably not be returning to Cleo their own mass-produced spam mail, but… might as well.

The next one, a single Mumbo stamp with text written on it.

Definitely from Grian. She didn’t have to check.

Cub’s Horn of the Month Club…

A chestful of valuable items with a signed book, addressing the recipient…

For a moment, Pearl wished it was addressed to her.

“What seems to be the problem?”

Pearl jumped.

“Etho! Don’t do that!”

He shrugged. “You were the one who asked me to come. I was just following your orders.”

She cleared her throat. “Yes.”

He tilted his body and stepped back, hands in the air. “Woah, Postmaster Pearl… looking through someone’s mail? I never would’ve thought that of you.”

Pearl rolled her eyes light-heartedly.

“Look into those chests and you’ll understand the problem,” she said, depositing the package in its proper place.

He stayed dead quiet until she shut the chest.

“Pearl…?”

“Yes, Etho?” she asked sweetly.

“What is this?”

“Oh, the machine broke, is all.” She kept up her light tone. “Shulkers went flying everywhere. These aren’t even meant for us!”

Clear panic colored Etho’s face. His eyes drifted to the collection of chests.

She crossed her arms and tilted her head expectantly.

“That’s… That’s not supposed to happen.”

“So go and get it, then!” She shooed him.

He scrambled, and Pearl slumped. Oh, she was not looking forward to this.

The next shulker she opened had another sheet of paper and a rose.

The little x at the end, the useless mail spam with no way of knowing who sent it, Iskall buying a stack of Joel stamps and probably more since she last checked the stock…

Oh, Iskall…

She closed the box and opened her comms.

<PearlescentMoon> Iskall

<PearlescentMoon> A word

#hermitaday #hermitcraft #hermitfic #pearlescentmoon #hermitcraft season 10 #hc s10 #postmaster pearl #ethoslab #my writing

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sollucets · 2 years

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ocean eyes

angel & darlin’s first meeting, featuring my named & described listener ocs (ivy they/them, aster they/she/he but they/them here, cameo from hazel they/them) & very very gently implied pre-poly angel/david/darlin(/sam). i didn’t initially mean to do that, but aster flirts too much lmao. only ivy’s physical appearance is described in specific detail, but i include a lot more appearance headcanons (and general headcanons) than i usually would otherwise.

i’m a little nervous to post oc content, but for me there really wasn’t another way i could imagine going about in-depth listener character interactions, and dammit i’m here to have fun

[ed: 06/11/22 some small edits made here, mostly proofreading]

2500 words of a whole lot of significant eye contact incoming: that first pack meeting

"Snacks always help."

Ivy keeps staring at them for a long moment. Their eyes are intense, and Aster sort of feels like a butterfly pinned to a board. "You're David's mate," Ivy says, slowly. "You shouldn't want to help. I put you in danger. He said so himself." At this volume, plenty of nearby wolves are sure to be able to hear their conversation, but Ivy doesn't sugarcoat their words or lower their voice.

Aster considers their answer. They could try and tell Ivy what they'd thought before, about intentions and sympathy, but they doubt that would go over well. They can almost imagine it, the already-rigid lines of Ivy's posture going even sharper, like broken glass. No, that won't work. Instead, they just shrug and push the bowl a little closer. "These have pickles in them."

Aster and Ivy meet at that first pack meeting.

David didn’t want them to come. He’d returned from the talk he’d told them about stressed out and angry and anxious, visibly so. It wasn’t that he’d flat-out disallowed them entry; even as distraught as he’d been, he’d never do that, and if he even tried he’d have been in trouble. But he’d admitted to them with some difficulty that his pack member’s situation had him worried in more than one direction. He didn’t want them to be directly involved with each other.

(“Quinn went after an unempowered human just to hurt them before,” he’d said, voice so deadly quiet it was barely a rasp in the still air of their shared bedroom. “There’s no reason he won’t do it again. I’m – I’m scared for you, angel.”)

They understand where he’s coming from, and they’d told him that much then, taking both his hands in theirs and squeezing. David likes pressure like that, a physical reminder of their presence. Aster had done their best not to dismiss his concerns out of hand, because as much as it chafes, they know he isn’t wrong to worry. More than that, they never want to make David feel bad for showing them his real emotions.

But they’re not in any more danger at the meeting than anywhere else. They’re probably safer than ever here, even, surrounded by their Pack. Quinn would have to be a real idiot to attack now. More than that, they’d made a promise a long time ago they’d never skip one, not if they could help it, and even if they hadn’t, this one will be important.

Their mate doesn’t know about their promise, but that doesn’t make it any less important, and Aster doesn’t regret showing up today.

David holds meetings outside when the weather's good, at a park in the heart of pack territory. They all gather at a set of wooden picnic tables under a shelter, surrounded by green. Essential to any Shaw pack meeting is the long table covered in snacks that spans the entire length of the floor. Usually, even during the actual meeting part, it’s difficult to get people’s attention away from the food, but today everyone’s eyes are fixed one one wolf in particular.

David’s wayward packmate looks nothing like Aster might have imagined them. From the way he’d talked about them, Aster had half-expected them to be intimidating, hulking, tall like David or Asher. Their boyfriend had described his pack member’s many scars with a difficult-to-read expression, something regretful and angry and wistful all at once.

The person slouched uncomfortably on a central wooden picnic table, leaving several feet of space clear between their spot and David’s, isn’t how Aster had pictured them at all. They’re covered from nearly head to toe in shapeless layers of dark, pragmatic clothes, black jeans and boots and shirt and leather jacket, and their ears and left eyebrow are pierced with multiple golden rings, but that’s where the expected parts end. They’re a lot shorter than Aster, and only a little taller than Ash’s tiny mate Hazel. They have dark, soft-looking skin, none of the scars showing on what bits of it Aster can actually see. Although their black hair is close-cropped in a no-nonsense style, a few wispy little baby hairs escape to brush against their forehead.

Aster had pictured someone like the members of the pack they were most familiar with, but Ivy Linden looks almost delicate. If they were human, it’d be easy to lift them, just the way spinning Hazel in a hug is. But they’re not. There’s a wolf behind those big, dark eyes.

Those eyes glare out over the gathering as they haltingly tell the story of their return to Dahlia, gaze darting from person to person and barely settling. David sits next to them on their bench, mostly silent, watching them with a carefully neutral expression and interjecting only rarely.

In Aster's opinion, Ivy is obviously, painfully scared to be speaking in front of a crowd like this. They stumble over their wording often, barely holding back curses each time, and their back is rigid, ramrod straight. As their story goes on, Aster blames them less and less. They don’t know the precise reason that Ivy never meshed well with the pack as a kid (because David doesn’t know; if he knew, he’d have said) but it must have been bad if they didn’t feel like they could ask for help, and here they are, spilling what sounds like the most traumatic moments of their entire life to the whole group at once. If it’s difficult, if they’re angry, who could hold it against them?

Well. Maybe some people could. They’d inadvertently focused Quinn’s attention on the Shaw Pack, it’s true, lying to David in the process. But Quinn had been fucking around in Dahlia already, albeit on Solaire territory, and they’d been intentionally trying not to endanger the Pack, even if they’d done that in the most stupid way possible. Aster’s heart is melted straightaway. Someone else might’ve hesitated, might’ve looked at their defensive posture and harsh words and obviously cultivated bad guy appearance, and shied away from assuming innocent. Someone else isn’t Aster, though, and they have some experience with recalcitrant wolves.

David’s never gone without his pack in his life; they can’t imagine him not turning to them for some form of support. But taking everything on his own shoulders in some misguided attempt at martyrdom? Yeah. Yeah, Aster can see it, and it hurts.

Ivy finishes their story, their words faltering towards the end. They don’t expand on anything David said to them, cutting off with a sharp jerk of their chin.

David takes over, words measured as he starts talking about where to go from here, and Aster tunes him out to switch their attention to the crowd. He’ll tell them the decisions later; it’s more important to them to see how everyone is taking this.

Milo, who was the first to speak up and offer his and his mate’s support, looks at Ivy like it hurts to do so. Asher hasn’t spoken at all, expression surprisingly sober, but Hazel at his side has been whispering into his ear, and when they do their customary debrief Aster’s sure he won’t spare them his opinion. The other members of David’s generation all look at Ivy with conflict of various shades; older pack members seem to be tending more towards outright disappointment.

Ivy, under the weight of all those gazes, juts their chin out harder, jaw set. A glance down confirms their fists are clenched. They listen silently to David’s instructions and the input of the pack.

David announces a brief break while they move on to the next topic, and the tense atmosphere breaks some as people begin milling around the snack table. Ivy doesn’t move even an inch, staying completely still on their bench, and although people still stare, no one is approaching. Watching them, Aster wants with a surprising amount of intensity to take one of those hands in theirs and watch the tension smooth out. It’s a gut feeling, completely unprompted by their conscious thoughts, and following those has never led them wrong.

They grab an entire bowl of those little ham roll things that David likes so much and sit right next to the wolf of the hour, plunking the food right onto the table. “Hi,” they say plainly, letting a smile play at the corners of their mouth. “I’m Aster. You look miserable.”

Ivy jerks over to look at them in a movement faster than they can follow, dark eyes narrowing in suspicion. Up close, the color of them is like the ocean at night, so black it’s nearly blue. “And you look rude.”

They let their grin widen. “Aww, really? But I brought you snacks.”

“Why?”

“Snacks always help.”

Ivy keeps staring at them for a long moment. Their eyes are intense, and Aster sort of feels like a butterfly pinned to a board. “You’re David’s mate,” Ivy says, slowly. “You shouldn’t want to help. I put you in danger. He said so himself.” At this volume, plenty of nearby wolves are sure to be able to hear their conversation, but Ivy doesn’t sugarcoat their words or lower their voice.

Aster considers their answer. They could try and tell Ivy what they’d thought before, about intentions and sympathy, but they doubt that would go over well. They can almost imagine it, the already-rigid lines of Ivy’s posture going even sharper, like broken glass. No, that won’t work. Instead, they just shrug and push the bowl a little closer. “These have pickles in them.”

Finally, Ivy breaks their stare-off, looking down at the bowl of snacks like Aster is handing them a bomb. “I don’t get you,” they say quietly, but they take a little ham roll, quick like they expect to be interrupted, and crunch into it.

Aster can feel another pair of eyes heavy on the back of their neck now, and they glance over their shoulder to find David watching them in obvious concern. These two are honestly too similar, with the staring and the leather jackets and the obvious muscle tension. No wonder he’s so tied up in knots over all this. They wave at him, a little two-fingered thing, and turn back to their new project. “I’m not so hard to get,” they say.

Ivy snorts, a barely-audible exhale, no humor on their face. That unwavering gaze is now fixed on the ham rolls. “Not sure that’s a good thing.”

“Poor phrasing,” they concede lightly. “But I’m an open book.”

“If you say so.”

They sit there in near-silence for a while. The other pack members mill around the shelter, eating and talking, but none of them come close. Milo is looking at them from across the room like he might want to try, little surreptitious glances, but he doesn’t. Ivy takes another ham roll.

Aster breaks the lull, as they usually do. “How have you been getting along in the city on your own for this long? Do you have a job?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“You said I was rude. Isn’t it polite to ask after work?”

Ivy snorts again, but the corner of their mouth is curved up. “You’re annoying. I do odd jobs. Construction, sometimes.”

Putting a hand over their heart in mock offense, Aster grins. “Excuse you, I am a delight. You work in construction? How? You’re tiny.”

“Fuck you,” says Ivy, baring their teeth. On anyone else it might be a smile. “You’re tall, but you’re skinny. Like a bendy straw. I could take you.”

Aster raises an eyebrow and just barely holds the obvious innuendo in. This isn’t David, for all that Ivy’s acting a bit like him. “I’m stronger than I look, too,” they answer serenely. Then, despite their best efforts, they add, “I invite you to try.”

To their slight surprise, Ivy’s expression thaws for the very first time at this. “I think your mate would actually kill me,” they say slowly. “He’s trying to glare me to death as we speak, you know.”

They shake their head fondly. “I wouldn’t worry too much.”

Ivy opens their mouth like they’re about to argue with that, brow furrowed, but they’re interrupted as Asher approaches, Hazel trailing behind him. “We’re going to start up again soon,” he says, a little more subdued than usual. “It’s mostly company stuff from here.”

At the sound of his voice, Ivy’s back goes straight as a board again. Huh. Aster hadn’t realized it had relaxed. They aim a smile at the beta. “Thanks for letting me know.”

There’s a long moment of extremely awkward silence. Hazel catches Aster’s eye from behind their mate and makes a face. Finally, Ash looks right at Ivy and says, “I think the last time I saw you was at Amanda’s graduation party.”

“Might have been,” Ivy replies, tone flat.

Aster winces.

Ivy and Asher stare at each other, his expression falling further and further the longer they look. Aster doesn’t envy Ash the full force of that attention, honestly. The silence hangs even worse, and Aster almost opens their mouth to interrupt, but Ivy beats them to it. “You were drunk off your ass and flirting with that boy from the Keaton pack the whole time.”

That’s a peace offering if they’ve ever heard one, and Asher takes it that way, his mismatched eyes softening into something approaching a smile. It’s still not close to his usual bright affect, but it’s better. “I barely remember most of it, honestly,” he admits. “But that seems about right. Sober me would’ve known better. Tragically heterosexual, that man.”

The reminiscing session is cut off by David coming back to his seat and clearing his throat loudly. Asher says, “See you later, Ivy,” and heads back to his spot. Hazel waves slightly to Aster as the two leave. Aster chances another look at Ivy’s face and catches the only unguarded expression they’ve seen from them all night – a small, wondering shock. For the second time that night, Aster’s heart melts in their chest.

David sitting down again immediately closes up Ivy’s expression again, and has the secondary effect of him very nearly sandwiching Aster between him and Ivy. They could go back to the outer tables, sure, but they don’t. It’s their right to sit next to David, anyway, although they usually don’t bother. He shoots them a glance, concern and question in his warm brown eyes, and they link their pinky with his under the table in reassurance.

Yeah, he might’ve been right to be worried after what happened to Ivy’s last unempowered friend, but it’s too late by now. They know it in their chest, the same way they’d known the moment they’d seen Davey’s ears go red in the food court. This is someone they can wear down. They have no history with Ivy, not the way the rest of the Pack does, and someone without that baggage should be on their side. Those little scattered bits of information about the Solaire Clan vamp make them think someone already is, and that’s good, but Ivy needs contacts in the Pack. David wants to be, but his expression when he’d spoken about them, that ocean of distance, might be too far for him to bridge on his own.

They can do it, though. So it’s decided.

Ivy is staring again when they look back over, eyes fixed on where David’s hand disappears under the table. Aster nudges them very slightly with their free arm, and counts it as a victory when they don’t flinch away from the touch. “Just the boring bits left now,” they murmur, feeling David’s pinky tighten around theirs in obvious irritation. “Talk to you after?”

Ivy’s big dark eyes flick up to theirs for another long, excruciating moment. It feels like they’re searching for something. An ulterior motive, maybe. Aster stares right back, evenly, and doesn’t hide their smile when Ivy finally says, “Okay.”

#my fic tag #redacted asmr #ocposting #i... am not going to use a bunch of tags #because i am truly Super Anxious about this #i know there's not really a reason i should be but the Fear remains #there's kind of an unwritten rule it feels like. yknow?#sigh #i have more written oc content. if that's. like. something people like #[pins my kids to the fridge like macaroni art] have em #this is what i did instead of working on scarfic or bridging fic #this is stress relief for me #this ot4 is kind of really occupying my brain as well #anyway i will. perhaps? put this on ao3. i don't know yet #ive been hovering over posting this for an hour the worry hasnt been this bad in a while #so we'll see #f: ocean eyes

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alldarkling · 1 year

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Our guideline had already said this, but, we still want to provide a gentle reminder that we have ongoing / continuous amnesia, which means " a perpetual long-term memory loss as a form of dissociative amnesia where the individual will forget each new occurring event over time " . Basically, we always forget about every knowledge and experiences that we would gain recently as time moves on. While Antiphisto is fleshed out more as an original character, given its initial canon sources of Faust, we may not always share the accurate details of it in terms of its themes, character details timelines, etcetera; and it is often draining to constantly re-check the sources in order to try adjusting our portrayal accuracy, so we hope that those who sees our portrayals of characters who have / had canon sources can understand that.

#AMNESIA CW #TO BE DELETED .#///#//#/#[ we are confident in our ability to share rich and strong stories and metas with our canon muses just as with our original muses ]#[ while we are usually quite content with how we portray them ]#[ though it is important for us to emphasize the fact that our memories are constantly being lost if not at least only blurred altogether ]#[ so our portrayal or how we share canon details may sometimes be disorganized ]#[ obviously we shouldn't have to say but please respect us if we happen to forget anything important for roleplay or in real life ]#[ or if we happen to forget to reply get back icly or oocly ]#[ or even use our amnesia to manipulate us as it did happen here prior to having to take a 4+ month hiatus ]#[ anyways what's written on the post is something people should really know ]#[ it's one of main reasons why we rarely write canon muses due to the expectations of having to remember everything in their canons ]#[ when it's even impossible to remember any or much of ( about ) everything in general for amnesiac individuals like us ]#[ thank you for reading this and may you have a lovely day! much love ♡ ]

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most-normal-eccles-cake-ignorer · 9 months

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Good Omens: Lockdown and Crowley not mentioning his living situation in S2*

*till S2E6 when he asks if he can have his apartment back bc he's bored of living in his car but Aziraphale doesn’t hear bc mentally he’s in Alpha Centauri.

Having read the 'Crowley doesn't tell him' Neil Gaiman ask close to when I first listened to Lockdown (I lived under a rock until recently), my initial thought was HAS HE BEEN LIVING IN HIS CAR FOR YEARS?! but I think he was still in his apartment in 2020:

as far as Hell knows, Crowley just had a pool party in holy water (the holiest) so the higher-ups are probably willing to give him some space (plus Beelzebub is busy going on pub dates w Gabriel)

while there should be ~8 months between the end of Season 1 events (The Very First Day of the Rest of Their Lives on Sunday, Aug 25, 2019) and the Lockdown phonecall (on or near the 30 year anniversary on May 1, 2020), I can't imagine that's a very long time for Hell, especially if you're understaffed and busy dealing with fallout from Almostgeddon / going on pub dates

Shax dropping off mail and asking about the boiler seems like something one does in the first few months of living somewhere, not ~3 years in (if S2 is in 2023)

That said, I think the phone call underlines why Crowley never directly tells Aziraphale that he is living in the Bentley in S2, and it's just a great conversation (all hail Gaiman) sooo I wrote about it:

***Note: This post analyzes the Lockdown phonecall from Crowley's perspective only. Our heroine is feeling quite emotionally vulnerable at this point in time so things are going to hit him harder than they normally would.

I do not think Aziraphale meant to cause him pain (!!) but Crowley can't see that yet and I've written this post in a way that reflects that missing insight. (I explain in more detail in this reblog if you are interested) I am working on a companion post for Aziraphale's side of this conversation and how I think it affects his behavior in S2 because if we know anything about these two, it's that their exactlys are different exactlys.***

Crowley’s habit of sleeping to skip time like an RPG character by a campfire amuses me to no end, but in this context it feels heavy. Crowley already worries about losing time with what he loves and he probably hoped things would be different between him and Aziraphale after the events of S1. But things don’t change much. Then lockdowns start, and Crowley is trapped in his apartment alone, transcendentally bored, and unable to make his brain shut up. Sleeping a month away starts to sound less awful.

But Crowley hasn’t given up yet; he’s still awake when Aziraphale calls, and he’s even giving it two more days. Was he waiting for Aziraphale to call? Is it even possible not to at least kind of wait for someone’s call when you are cut off from everything and the caller has been your only friend and crush for millennia?

Aziraphale asks why Crowley isn't "out and about" tempting people or setting a bad example and he responds:

C: Everyone's so miserable and cooped up right now anyway, and I just… well… don't have the heart for it. A: *glowing audibly* I'm not miserable~ C: Really?

Crowley sounds genuinely surprised at Aziraphale's happiness and quickly assumes it's because the angel has been around people. He's so lonely/depressed/in his own head that he hadn't even considered someone enjoying being 'cooped up'. *sob*

Aziraphale goes No actually I put the closed sign up in the window and I'm having the Time of My Life, never had so few customers, not in 200 years!, etc. Although, he says:

A: …There were a few young lads a couple of nights ago who broke in through the back and tried to steal the cashbox! But they soon saw the error of their ways~ C: *clearly amused* Did you smite them with your wroth? A: Well I certainly gave them a good talking to, and I sent each of them home with cake~ C: *annoyed, swooning* Cake? A: Quite a lot of cake, actually. C: *physically ill from having such a giant crush on this dumbass baker/security guard* eeeekkkgghhh I'm gonna regret asking but.. ...rrgh.. *30 seconds of Aziraphale joyfully describing his baking while Crowley probably tries very hard not to imagine the angel eating each item in sensual slow motion* I stg you can hear him struggling in the background once or twice

A: …And once I've baked them, I have to eat them all myself, which was why I was so delighted— C: To send your burglars home laden with baked goods, yes, nnyeaayeah I follow…

Crowley interrupts, finishing Aziraphale's sentence in his nervous hurry to say the next bit:

C: *loud inhale* You know, I could.. hunker down at your place. … Slither over and watch you eat cake. I could bring a bottle--a case of… something… drinkable…?

He's trying to sound so casual about it but this is someone who was rejected/abandoned by actual literal God after asking what he thought were welcome, uncontroversial questions. Asking makes him vulnerable. He's supposed to be the rescuer, not a demon in distress. He does not feel casual about asking.

Crowley knows it's unlikely but he's so miserable and desperate for company that he can't help but ask, just in case. Even the smallest chance of spending time trapped indoors with Aziraphale—with nothing to do but drink, watch him eat, and talk about things they'd normally avoid—is too tempting.

A: *panicking* Oh I— I— I— I— I'm afraid that would be Breaking All The Rules! *nervous breathing* Out of the question! I'll see you… when this is over. C: Right. gnnehh. I'm setting the alarm clock for July. Good night, angel. *dial tone*

And just like that, Crowley doesn't need two days to decide. The depression nap doubles in length. He doesn't hear how badly Aziraphale wants to say yes behind the fear, or maybe he does and it hurts worse because why isn't Crowley enough for him? You can almost hear the spiralling:

SHOCKING, asking made it worse. It always does doesn’t it? Why even bother? you just embarrass yourself.. SLITHER over? why did I say that *grumble grumble* of COURSE His Holy Holiness, your only friend in the universe, would rather eat cake by himself while everything goes to shit than ~deign~ to have you in his presence. "AsK aND yE sHaLl ReCeIvE" bugger this for a lark im going to bed

(a bit dramatic but we've all been there)

I imagine sleep doesn't come right away. Maybe his thoughts drift to when he sat beside the angel at a dark Tadfield bus stop after a rather eventful Saturday. Crowley must've felt a tiny bit hopeful when he invited Aziraphale to stay with him: Heaven had withdrawn its favor and the bookshop was gone; Aziraphale was like him now. Didn't that mean things would change?

"I don't think my side would like that." Apparently not.

In the end, Aziraphale did ride the bus back to Crowley's apartment and stayed till the next morning when he caught a cab, but only to sell the illusion. Crowley understood that as far as sides went, the angel was still on Heaven's, even if Heaven wasn't on his.

And now this: the entire world is shut down; there is nothing for Aziraphale to do but stay in and read and bake in his magically reconstituted bookshop and he still won't invite Crowley in. Burglars and un-fallen angels only—nobody who asks questions.

So... of course Crowley doesn't tell Aziraphale when he loses his apartment. He already knows what answer he would get; the angel has told him so many times. Aziraphale is a company man first, a companion to one very sad owl when convenient.

If Crowley works up the courage to say 'please take me in, I have nowhere else to go' and Aziraphale goes 'sorry, no, far too political, but I WILL risk being erased from the Book of Life to protect this nude amnesiac former coworker who always hated me,' it's going to be too much. You can't sleep long enough for that type of hurt to go away. Better not to say anything.

"Then nothing has to change, does it?"

#edited to add the note about crowley's perspective right after the cut! apologies if it seemed anti-aziraphale before!#good omens meta #good omens lockdown #good omens 2 #ineffable husbands #ineffable spouses #ineffable divorcees #i can't even imagine navigating the pandemic brain scramblies while pining THAT HARD #Aziraphale is a company man (gn) but i think S3 will cure him of that #long but if i can't write essays about this on tumblr then where #good omens spoilers

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lilgoblinbitch · 28 days

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Gossip 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

rick grimes x fem!reader

a/n: i based this fic on this post here! i might make a part 2 because i have some ideas in the back of my head of how i think this story could end up going eventually, but idk if i will write it yet. we'll see! also i made up the two random alexandrians in this story :)

summary: rick overhears you and some alexandrian women gossiping, and he decides to confront you.

warnings: 18+, alcohol consumption (reader gets drunk).

wc: 1.5k

“Spencer does not like me, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” You scoffed, taking another sip of the pinot. This was your second glass, and your head was starting to buzz.

Two Alexandrian women became well acquainted with you, offering you a bottle of wine and some dinner after your first week in Alexandria. You decided “why the hell not.” You never really had great friends before the apocalypse and the only ones you had were the group you came in with, so it wouldn’t harm you to make more.

“Oh honey, did you not notice the way he was ogling you at Deanna’s party?” One of them asked — her name was Shannon. The other woman, Vivian, slightly chuckled, taking one last swig from her glass. She nodded, muttering something in agreement.

You sighed. “Even if he was checking me out, it’s not like I care anyway...”

The two women paused simultaneously, looking up at you with ‘bitch, HUH?’ written on their faces. “Y/n, Spencer is a beautiful man! He’s tall, handsome, and he’s around your age I believe,” Vivian gushed. You scowled, displeased at the comment.

You took another gulp from your glass, emptying the contents down your gullet and then setting it on the kitchen island. After licking your lips clean, you said, “Well, frankly, I don't really care if I’m being quite honest.” Your mind swirled with inebriated thoughts; you sort of had a love-hate relationship when it came to alcohol — it either made you perfectly giddy and sociable or very angsty and erratic. But that’s what it did to most people, anyway. Right now, it was making you angsty. “I have someone else on my mind.”

“Oh, my! Okay, who is it?” Shannon asked, her and Vivian both on the edge of their chairs anticipating what you were about to say — well, what they expected you to tell them, that is.

You thought for a moment; should you tell them? It seemed like they lived for that kind of gossip. But that could mean that they might spill your secret, and you weren't exactly ready for that. “I’ll tell you another time. I’m tired, gonna head to bed,” you stated, yawning as you got up from the stool you were seated on. The two women groaned in disappointment, like children who failed to convince their parents to take them to disney world.

After your friends left you strutted out of the kitchen, about to head upstairs when you heard a door open and shut. Instinctively you ran back to the kitchen to grab a knife to defend yourself from a possible intruder or walker, but before you could your body collided with something, or rather someone.

You cursed and looked up at the culprit; it was none other than Rick Grimes. “Rick, what the fuck! I could have stabbed you!” You scolded him, picking up the knife that clattered on the ground.

“You forget we live together?” He teased, taking a step back to get a good look at you. Your eyes were glassy and eyelids heavy — a telltale sign that you were drunk. Rick had experience pulling over a few drunkards back in his day as a cop, so he knew immediately without even having to smell the alcohol oozing from your breath that you weren’t sober.

You pushed a strand of hair out of your face, swallowing the excess saliva forming in your mouth. You mentally scolded yourself for drooling over a man, but this one was just too beautiful to not gawk at. The sound of Rick clearing his throat snapped you out of your trance and brought you back to reality. “No, no. I didn’t forget. I just…”

“You’re just drunk, right?” He chuckled, turning his head to look at the empty bottle of wine sitting on the dining room table. You rolled your eyes, taking a bite of your lip while trying to think of a plausible excuse.

“Look, I only had two glasses. Shannon and Vivian from a few houses down brought us a casserole and some pinot. Girls’ night. Sue me, Rick.” You slipped past him and headed to the kitchen, Rick hot on your tail. “There’s leftovers in the fridge, if you or Carl want any,” You said without turning around. When you got to the kitchen sink you started washing the dishes, but you frowned slightly, looking back up at Rick with worrying eyes.

“Shit. Did I wake the kids? Is that why you’re down here?” You turned off the faucet, wiping your hands hastily on a dry towel.

Rick shook his head. “No. Only I heard you. But you weren’t very quiet, and when I heard them leave that’s when I came down here,” he explained, leaning against the kitchen counter.

Your heart picked up its pace. ‘How much did he hear?’ You wondered. You pursed your lips and your eyes floated around the room, quite obviously avoiding his intense stare. He made you nervous. That sheriff always made you nervous, and part of the reason was because you were so utterly attracted to him.

Finally you brought your eyes back to his icy ones, which were studying your body. You blushed and bit your lip again — it was a nervous habit you could never seem to break. “You got a stain–” Rick pointed to the red stain on your shirt, just below your breasts, “Right there.”

You looked down at the stain, it was wine — dark red wine, at that. And you were wearing a white tank top. How convenient.

You looked back up at him, snorting in slight amusement. “Guess I shouldn’t have worn white, huh?”

He let out a low chuckle, showcasing his pearly smile. God, he was pretty. “Thought you knew better than that, Y/n,” he joked, standing back up fully to make his way over to you. Okay, now your heart was really beating fast.

When he was finally in front of you, face to face, you gulped. He smelled like the forest after a rainshower, and somehow he always did; it engulfed you like a tsunami. You berated yourself for getting so worked up over the smell of him, and just him in general. He was your leader, your friend. And he asked you to live with him and his children because he trusted you. Why were you acting like a cat in heat? ‘It’s the alcohol’, you convinced your mind, it had to be…

The silence was too loud. You had no idea what Rick was thinking right now; frankly, you never did. His poker face was always unreadable. But your tipsy brain gained a few confidence points, letting smugness wash over you.

“Whatcha thinking about, Grimes?” You shifted your weight to one leg and batted your lashes at the man in front of you. He only grinned, then glanced away momentarily only to stare back into your eyes.

“Y’know, I overheard the conversation,” Rick started, his chest steadily moving up and down as he breathed. One of his hands gripped the counter while the other was glued to his hip. Your eyes trailed up and down his tanned veiny arms, taking in his manliness.

“Mhm. And?” You kept your composure, not wanting to let Rick taunt you; you knew you talked pretty loud when you were tipsy or drunk but it’s not like you said anything negative about him or anyone.

“You girls like to gossip, huh?”

“Well, yeah. We’re women,” you joked, cracking a smile and trying to ease the tension a bit. “What are you trying to get at?” Rick never bothered to indulge in any girl gossip you, Rosita, and Maggie used to partake in, so why was he so invested now?

Little did you know, he was always invested in literally anything you had to say.

Rick licked his lips and exhaled through his nose. “Heard you talking about liking someone. Is it anyone I know?”

He smirked when he noticed how red you turned. Your face would have matched the stain on your shirt if it was a few shades darker. “I– I don’t…” Of course now was the time to choke on your words, right when you were using every fiber of your being to keep your poise in check. But goddamnit, Rick just had to be a sly and cocky bastard.

“I don’t remember even saying anything about that, Rick.”

His smirk never faded. You wanted to slap it off his face, then kiss the hell out of him.

He tilted his head to the side a bit, furrowing his brows as if to challenge your statement. “Really?”

You nodded and crossed your arms right over the stain. ‘Deny, deny, deny,’ You repeated in your head.

But he didn’t buy your bullshit. He brought his hand to your cheek, fingers barely grazing your skin as if he was afraid he’d scare you away. Your breath hitched in your throat and subsequently dropped your arms to your sides, separating your lips to say something. However, nothing came out.

“Well, I think I know your secret, Y/n. Answer seems pretty clear to me.” His voice almost came out as a growl from how low and raspy it was. Goosebumps awakened all across the surface of your body. You were tongue tied.

“I’m the one on your mind, aren’t I?”

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pokemoncenter · 2 months

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On RP Etiquette

While this post is mostly intended for the Pokemon IRL RP community, the basic rules and thrust of this post should apply just as well to all RP.

(Written with help from @wingsofachampion!)

On “Yes, And”

RP, when you get right down to it, is a form of improvisational theater. Comedy, drama, the exact genre doesn’t matter, but it’s still improv all the way down. And that means the golden rule of improv still applies.

“Yes, And” is the basic rule of improv. It means: ‘Accept what came before without just shutting it down’ (“yes”), and then build on it and continue to iterate on The Bit (“and”). Sometimes, ‘Yes, But’ works just as well. What’s important is that you build on what came before without simply shutting it all down.

“No, And” can also work well. What doesn’t work is a flat ‘no’. Those are generally discouraged, because it shuts down the RP- Where do you go when your contributions have simply been discarded and swept away like nothing? This isn’t to say you can’t ever refuse; keeping your boundaries is just as important in RP as it is in life. But RP is a collaborative sport, and you have to keep the other party in mind as well.

As Professor Oak says, there is a time and place for everything.

Building off the previous post in a constructive way, even if it is denying it, is what is important.

To use an example:

If Sophora says legendary Pokemon do not exist, a reply of “Really? But what about [a specific legendary]?” can be acceptable or fun. So can “Yeah, and neither do flying-types!” or something similarly ludicrous. But what is not fun, is when a reply is simply “[a picture of legendary Pokemon waving at the camera right now]”.

Similarly, for those playing sapient Pokemon or humans-turned-Pokemon, the post could be “I hate having a tail!”, and the responses could fall into several categories. “Humans don’t have tails!” would be acceptable, or “the furry RPers are weird” would be… less so but still on the safe side of the line. “[picture of you as a human right now] STOP LYING” wouldn’t be. Because, it goes back to the same thing: How is your RP partner supposed to reply to that?

Which brings us to our next point.

On Thinking Two Replies Deep

When I reply in a post, one thing I always try to keep in mind is that I have some sort of ‘hook’ in my reply for the other person to reply to. If it’s just shutting someone down entirely, there’s no possible reply other than a ‘nuh-uh’ ‘yuh-huh’ chain that would be more at home on an elementary school playground.

It is related to “yes, and”, but still distinct. The point of it is that when you reply, you be sure to consider how others can reply. You can think of a few ways people can reply, and then go even deeper, and try to predict entire conversational flows. This way, you’re prepared, and you have a constant supply of ‘hooks’- And that means you can keep the RP going, and not shut it down.

In my case, the most common cause of me stopping replying in an RP thread is simply that I do not have anything I feel I can reply to. I have no contributions, and so I do not contribute. If there’s no hook, I can’t reply. On the other hand, just because you have a hook, doesn’t mean the thread will go exactly how you think, and a lot of the fun in RP is seeing how things go differently from what you expected.

But it’s always best to try to think two replies deep- Never just consider your reply, but consider how others will reply to your reply.

On Checking the Pinned Post

This one, I’m not sure needs to be said, but I will re-emphasize it anyway. If you’re going to be interacting with someone to build off them, please be sure you read their pinned post. So many times I get people who are directly contradicting everything in my pinned post and it’s difficult to deal with.

On Giving and Receiving Engagement

Many people do wonder why they aren’t getting engagement. The secret answer to that is not actually secret: People will interact with who they know. If you want engagement from others, you have to give engagement to others yourself.

If you have a new blog, no one will really know anything or interact with it until you get out there and start interacting more. And even if you are a well-established blog, that can still dry up fast if you don’t keep it going. RP is a communal sport- You have to give in order to get. This is true for engagement, for interaction, and even for the replies I was talking about from the start- You can’t get replies if you don’t give hooks.

#ooc post

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jjunieworld · 3 months

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30. it’s not love ⸝ ˚⋆

↳ half written, half texts. word count: 1.5k

the hallway was crowded as you walked out of your classroom, loud conversations happening as everyone pushed each other to see what was happening. somehow you managed to get out of the building, seeing another crowd lingering in the grass. spotting your friends, you went up to them and asked them what was going on.

“that’s what we’re trying to figure out,” jake said as he stood on his tiptoes in an attempt to see over the crowd. there was a collective gasp that had you turning back towards the group of people. you saw people parting as someone walked through them.

there was a loud scream. “ugh! you and y/n? are you serious?” you heard a voice say. you turned to your friends with wide eyes and they heard you loud and clear. you all pushed through the crowd and managed to get a good look at the conflict. sakura was fuming at an unbothered looking sunghoon, beomgyu recording it all. “what is so fucking special about that bitch?”

your eyebrows raised at sakura’s comment. was she really this mad that she was losing control over people she never should’ve had control over in the first place? you rolled your eyes and noticed heads turning to the right.

following the direction, you saw soobin storming through the crowd, the angriest you have ever seen him. you felt an arm link with yours and looked over to see yunjin, a confused look on her face. the rest of your friends gathered around you too. “woah…” jake said. “i’ve never seen him that furious.”

soobin made a beeline directly towards sunghoon and sakura. when he got close enough, he spat out sunghoon’s name with so much venom it shocked you to your core. your brows furrowed, what the hell is happening? was this all because of sunghoon’s post? it must be.

in one fluid motion, soobin stepped to sunghoon and landed the meanest right hook onto his face. there was another collective gasp, you and your friends included, as sunghoon stumbled to the ground with a trail of blood pouring out his nose. “what game are you playing with y/n?” soobin asked fiercely, pushing sunghoon back to the ground when he tried to stand.

“soobin! what the hell is wrong with you?” sakura screeched as she tried to grab onto him. he just shook her off of his arm, not even bothering to spare her a glance as he stared daggers down at sunghoon. beomgyu laughed loudly and pointed the camera towards them. “beomgyu!” sakura exclaimed as she motioned to the two boys in front of her for him to do something. he just shook his head.

you and your friends looked at each other. honestly, you knew you should probably break up the fight, but you wanted to see how far it would go and for what. plus, sunghoon deserved to get punched after he called you a bitch earlier. there was a sly smile on yeonjun’s lips and kai tried to stifle his laugh. you didn’t need soobin fighting for your honor, but it felt nice to know that he was doing it anyways.

sunghoon looked up at soobin, irritation and anger written all over his features as he held a hand up to his bleeding nose. he usual smirk was full of wryness instead of its usual slyness. “what, jealous that she might like me more than she does you? that you lost your chance?” sunghoon asked.

you let out a small gasp just as soobin landed another hard punch across sunghoon’s face. without realizing, your feet were already moving through the rest of the crowd and towards soobin. you heard sunghoon’s laughter as he spotted you but soobin didn’t.

pushing soobin away harshly, you turned to give sunghoon the sharpest glare. “y/n…” soobin breathed lowly as his eyes landed on you. you turned the glare onto him and he stumbled back slightly at the intensity.

“oh look, here the bitch is!” you heard sakura drawl. you honestly forgot she was there. the anger boiled and grew inside of you. everything she had put you through came to the service and turned your vision white hot. you stormed up to her and slapped her across the face so hard your hand felt like it was on fire. “the bitch, yes,” you said to her.

sakura held her hand to her cheek, her body turned to the side and her hair in her face. her mouth was agape as she turned to look at you with wide eyes and furrowed brows. you can already see the red shape of your hand appear on her face. turning away from her, you focused your attention back to soobin.

“you’re just gonna let her hit me?!” you heard sakura screech behind you. “well, sakura, i can't say that you didn’t deserve it,” you heard sunghoon’s voice, followed by beomgyu’s laugh. “you’re still recording?” sakura yelled louder.

grabbing soobin’s wrist, you let out a, “seriously?” you dragged him through the crowd as you looked for an empty private spot. once you found one, you whipped around to face him. “what was all of that?”

despite everything, soobin looked at you lovingly. it was as if he couldn’t help it; as if it just leaked through the cracks out of him. “what was all of that with sunghoon?” he asked you instead. “him of all people? you’re with him? what about us? i thought we were working on getting back together and i see you in the elevator and i open twitter to you kissing him!” soobin motioned to the hoodie you were wearing, which was sunghoon’s, as he spilled his feelings. “wearing his clothes! what does he have over you to make you act this way? just tell me and i will fix everything. you don’t even like him!”

you ran your hands down your face. “what? that’s why you’re punching sunghoon?” you inhaled deeply and looked up at the incredulous look on his face. “because you think i’m with him? because you think he’s blackmailing me?”

soobin looked to the ground, breathing heavily as he just nodded. “what else could it be? it’s not love, i know that for certain.” you couldn’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of this whole situation. how much everything had devolved. what was supposed to be a simple one-off prank had ended up in bloody noses and red faces. how you kept managing to dig yourself into these deep holes astounded you. soobin looked at you with confusion.

“soobin… who has my heart? you or sunghoon?” you asked. he looked to the ground again, cheeks flushed. “it was supposed to be a prank! me getting you back for the bet. make you squirm a bit so you understood how i felt. we never even kissed! it was stupid, and i’m sorry for hurting you, i really am. but, you did deserve it. i never meant for it to go this far.”

soobin combed his fingers through his hair. “i don’t care. i don’t care about any of that. all i care about is you. hurt me all you want. torture me. i’d rather be burnt by your flames than not feel your warmth at all.” he took your hands in his and pulled you close. “all i want is you. all i need is you.”

your heart swelled and lept at his sentiment. so many emotions flowed through you, you didn’t know which ones to focus on. “and i know you said you needed time, i’ll give you that. just please… please don’t shut me out again,” soobin spoke. tears brimmed in your eyes but you refused to let them fall. you nodded, “i won’t.”

you smiled at him and he gave you a wide smile right back, his dimples showing. soobin cupped your face, “now, can you take his hoodie off? it’s really starting to piss me off just looking at you in it.” laughing, you pulled the hoodie off so you were in the tank top you had under it. the cool breeze blew across your bare skin and caused you to shiver. immediately, soobin took off the hoodie he was wearing and handed it to you so he was left in his plain white t-shirt.

soobin took sunghoon’s hoodie and tossed it in the trash that was next to you and you had to hold in your laugh. you liked seeing him jealous. pulling his hoodie over your head, you sighed lightly to yourself. everything was starting to feel normal again. back in place.

you looked over to the crowd that was mostly dissipated now. there were only a few stragglers, besides your friends, who remained. you felt them glance over to your direction, trying to decipher what the hell just happened. you took soobin’s hand and intertwined your fingers. “i have to go, but i promise i won’t be a stranger.”

soobin smiled warmly at you and nodded. he held on to your hand as you walked away until the distance pulled your fingers apart, making you giggle as you made your way towards your friends.

masterlist.

summary: choi soobin has always been the popular kid surrounded by his popular friends. y/n… not so much. one night, soobin and his friends make bet that soobin can’t get y/n to date him in a month. unfortunately for y/n, they’re a hopeless romantic.

A/N: standing on big business as you should who else cheered

taglist: @jjunberry @gothgyuu @spooksh0wbabe @beargyuuzz @carengene @binluvsu @seunnimg @vixensss @kittyhyuka @beomsite @hueningm1ckey @n034sy @littlestxli @starsforbeomgyu @soobiary @bunnisoobin @heiiolifeee @cryingforgyu @dani-is-tired @damn-u-min-yoongi @soobieboobiedoobiedaboobie @icouldntcareless22 @sleepdeprivedline @jhuuni @thepoopdokyeomtouched @rikizm @curiousgworge @nakaopolo @mwahvvis @cupidsmoons @soobhns @ryunjin0 @punkhazardlaw @phtogravi @choibeomkai @soobiverse @rapmonie2047 (if your name is bold it wouldn’t let me tag you!)

— kipo <3

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rebouks · 4 months

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Hey Mat, Long time no see, or write, or anything really.. feel free to rip this letter to shreds if you feel like it, I wouldn’t blame you. I didn’t exactly plan on dipping like that and I’m sure you’re probably pissed, or were but if you somehow manage to get through this stupid thing, then thanks… I’m doing better, thankfully.. sorted my shit out, like you said, as much as I think I can anyway… I’ve been clean for a while now, bar a few mishaps but I guess I should know by now that fucking up is just a part of myself that I can’t really change. I always liked that about you guys though, how you never judged me for it, I’ve found some pretty neat people here too, for the most part. I kinda cut my parents off too, but I dunno if I feel bad about that or not yet, guess I’m still figuring it out. I might give em another chance but half of me expects nothing to change, so I dunno… I kinda miss the Bay n’ stuff sometimes too y’know? Maybe not the rain though.. but I think I got so used to leaving things behind I didn’t really think it’d be any different this time around, maybe I was wrong. I’m doing okay, I guess.. but there’s a piece of me that feels like maybe I left a part of myself behind too. That sounds a bit dramatic huh? I don’t even know why I’m telling you all this… I suppose I’ve kinda been letting myself think about the past recently, someone got into my head about using it to move ahead instead of running from it and like, the elephant in the room n’ all that? I’m grateful you talked some sense into me before I did something I might’ve regretted not that I would have I didn’t mean to put you in that position though and I’m sorry if you thought maybe it was your fault that I left, cos it wasn’t. So uh can’t believe I just wrote uh out but I just wanted to apologise for leaving the way I did, without saying anything, and I hope none of you hate me for it and I hope you’re doing okay, no, better than okay! I really hope you worked things out with the whole Pixie thing too, I still think that was amazing, what you did I think it’d be neat if you had a relationship with her. Sometimes I wonder if I helped at all hopefully she’s doing good, either way though cos whatever you decided was for the best, no doubt. This letter is a rambling mess, I know.. but hopefully it’s better than nothing you can burn it if you want Can you tell I flunked lang/lit? I skipped write a letter day too I guess, my bad hah.. never was any good with words, written or spoken, but I’m sure you remember that. Anyway, say hi to everyone for me if you want, but you don’t have to - especially Oscar & Courtney, they don’t know how much they helped me.. and lil Robin, but I bet he’s not so little anymore. I shouldn’t have waited so long but uh.. better late than never? Okay peace.. T x ps. I almost didn’t post this but someone practically dragged me to the post box and now I’m nervous at the thought of you reading it.. which I’ll bet you find pretty funny, which is why I told you I guess pps. I don’t expect you to write back so dw about it if you don’t

TEXT MSSG:

Pick you up at 12? x Can’t make it… Why not? I’m sick I already bought tickets! Do you want me to come over, nurse you back to health? ;) I’m good, take someone else x Fiiine, get some rest sweet cheeks xx

#ts4 #sims 4 #simblr #ts4 story #sims story #forever in between #fib #matilda douglas #tristen burks #he's here in spirit ok? ok #everybody say ough #so nice to hear from triss but we wanna see his lovely faaaace #so does tilda.. but don't tell her i told you that #she's too busy pining to come out with u now mr mystery man #😭

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yelenassafeplace · 5 months

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| The sex tape

Again sorry for my bad English, I’m French and still have a lot to learn. Anyway please do not translate or re upload this oneshot. Thank you.

pairing: porncontentcreator!Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Author's note: really fucking poorly written scenario bcs I was lazy and just wanted to write about Spencer being a porn content creator. Just filthy smut in general, sorry for your eyes.

Warnings: porn content related, sex tape, camera involved, unprotected p in v, clit stimulation, creampie, gf and bf dynamic, unprotected sex, no use of y/n, praise kink, Spencer talks you through it (slightly), tell me if I should add more warnings.

You knew what Spencer did in addition to his job in the FBI. He had told you everything before you got in a relationship with him because he didn’t want to have any secrets between the two of you. And you were grateful for that.

You were the only one who knew though, and nobody suspected anything. But it wasn’t really surprising. How would they even think of the shy and awkward Spencer Reid being a porn content creator?

It was…unthinkable.

You had talked about it a lot. You had asked him if it was for the money and he had awkwardly explained to you that it wasn’t, that he got off to being recorded and the thought that people would watch and compliment him.

He never interacted with the viewers tho. He read comments, yes, but it wasn’t really his thing to get into this type of relations. He only recorded, posted, got an ego boost from the comments and that’s it.

To be honest it doesn’t bother you, you even enjoy it as you now often find yourself masturbating to his videos when he’s away for work because of a new case.

He never shows his face, for obvious reasons, and only films his hands, legs and cock. And it’s perfection.

The first time you had looked up for his account on pornhub, you had just gotten back home from a date with him. You two had never did more than preliminaries because he was trying to hold himself back. He didn’t want to move too fast and mess it all up, he was a gentleman after all.

But this night, oh boy, you had came so many times to his videos while stuffing yourself with your dildo that you had literally sent him texts where you begged him to come over and fuck you.

You didn’t know what was going on with you to act this desperate but this man was doing something to you without even being in your apartment. But he got the message and came right over to do what you had both waited for so long.

Fast forward to 7 months later of a healthy relationship and really good sex, you were now completely comfortable with each other and didn’t hesitate to ask to try new things in the bedroom. And most of the time things went as smooth as butter.

And this time, he has a bold request. A sex tape.

He somehow managed to convince you to try and record yourselves having sex. You were reticent at first, not really feeling comfortable with having a video of you being intimate together and post it. But curiosity got the best of you. You wanted to know how he felt like when he was recording himself and see how your bodies moved together when you were being intimate. So you agreed.

Of course, you will still not be going to show your faces. It’s a little tricky since you have a lot of tattoos but foundation and setting powder did an actually good job so everything is good.

But now that you are laying completely bare on his bed, your legs opened wide enough for him to fit between them and his hands making their way up and down your thighs slowly to warm you up while a cam recorder was rolling and capturing the moment; it feels all too real.

You can’t help but get distracted every time your eyes land on the camera, resulting with your body cooling down slightly again.

He kissed down your jaw to your neck to help you relax.

"Relax, baby."

His warm breath tickled your neck as he whispered in your ear, your body melting at his voice.

"Focus on me."

You sigh and nod, closing your eyes and trying to enjoy his touch and kisses.

Soon enough, your lewd moans and whines of pleasure fills the room as one of his hands rests on your right breast, the pad of his index gently brushing against your nipple while his cock slides through your folds with every movement of his hips, the tip catching on your sensitive clit.

"That’s it…There’s my pretty girl."

Before you can even moan out at his praise, his lips press against yours for the sweetest kiss ever. And even tho the camera doesn’t catch it because of the angle to preserve your identities, the love and longing can be felt in the atmosphere.

"You’re so wet…"

He lets out a hum, grabbing his cock and pumping it a few times before prodding against your hole and pushing himself inside. You let out a little gasp and whine at his size, feeling a slight burning sensation from the stretch, but only for a few seconds before you get used to him.

"Spe…"

You catch yourself before saying his real name, almost having forgotten the camera and being too used to moan and scream out his name while you fuck.

"Baby…"

You whine pathetically as he starts to thrust slowly and deep, a hand wrapping around your throat.

"Yeah? What is it, Candy?”

He looks down at you with dark and lust filled eyes, a little smirk playing on his lips while he uses the nickname he decided to give you for this occasion. He couldn’t believe how easily you became cock drunk for him.

"Y-You’re so deep…"

“Yeah, I know baby. You take me so well."

You moan at the praise and close your eyes when he picks up the pace.

"Oh look at that…"

He mumbles with a wide smile before tightening his grip on your throat slightly and tilts your head towards his camera, the screen turned in your direction so you can watch yourselves. You look at the screen with half lidded eyes as he thrusts faster into you, making you forget the awkwardness and shame you felt just a moment ago.

A loud moan escape your lips as he reaches your sensitive spot and keeps ramming into it, watching as your boobs bounce up and down and how the impact of his thighs against your ass makes it jiggle slightly with every harsh thrust.

"S’good…I’m close.."

You whine out and cry out as you hide your face against his neck after he releases your throat.

"I can feel it honey.."

He grunts out and grabs your thighs, his fingers digging into your flesh and his grip tightening as he pushes your thighs up and against your chest to fuck you from a new angle. He moans as you flutter around him and reaches down to rub your clit, knowing that you were nearing the edge.

You come a few seconds later, holding onto him tightly and scratching his back with your nails as your body shakes and tenses up through your orgasm. He continues to rub your clit and pound you, only coming when he manages to make you squirt all over his cock and the bedsheets. He moans and his hips stutters as he fills you with his cum, fucking it deep inside your pussy before pulling out once he’s satisfied.

You’re panting and seeing stars behind your closed eyelids when he gets up and retrieves his camera before going back to the bed, kneeling on it and spreading your folds to record his cum slowly dripping from your pussy before pressing the button to stop the recording. He discards his camera on the bedside table and lays down next to you.

You instinctively roll on your side, knowing that he was going to want to cuddle with you after that and make sure you’re okay.

"Everything good?”

He holds you against his chest and gently caresses your lower back.

"Yeah. Just a little tired"

You open your eyes and smile when his face and curls comes into view. He really is your handsome man.

"Good."

He smiles and kisses your nose.

"I might keep this video for myself actually…"

He says with an hint of possessiveness underlying in his tone.

“Oh yeah?"

"Yes."

He smiles and presses his lips against yours for a firm kiss before pulling away.

"Don’t move I’ll go get you a towel and a glass of water."

Now it was time for aftercare.

_________

Yup that’s it for me have a great day, personally I’m going to sleep

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #+18 only #yelenasdirtythoughts #yelenassafeplace #smut #mdni #criminal minds #spencer reid smut

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creekfiend · 4 months

Note

a lot of what i've read in your antipsych posts is also stuff my therapist straight up said about psych institutions when i was approaching a mental breaking point a few years ago. when it became clear how Bad i was doing, she was like "okay we need to find any interventions to get you to a point where you don't end up in a psych ward, bc even if they're acutely lifesaving, people invariably leave with more trauma than they went in with. they should be avoided." like this is a thing that ppl working in the space know about, even if most won't say it as clearly as she did.

i get the instinctual reaction towards the term antipsych, especially if you're someone who has had to deal with the crunchy tiktok/insta types who will tell you that all psychiatric medication is poison, but the posts in your tag are very clearly not about that. i actually rly appreciate getting to see the arguments for antipsych written out so clearly bc they articulate something i have personally felt for a while, which is that the people i care about who were institutionalized were not actually helped by that, bc the reasons they ended up there were straightforwardly related to external pressures and problems that didn't magically go away while they were in the psych ward.

anyways. i appreciate your existence. pls know that your posts have helped some people learn more. hope you and your excellent dogs have a good day/week/month/year.

that sounds like a good therapist. I also managed to find a therapist who is broadly antipsych and much of the work she does for me is like, physically placing her body and her respectability as a professional between me and institutions that might do me harm. it's really encouraging that more people are starting to approach it that way. I'm glad you found a good one!!! thank you for your message

#antipsych

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jaywaslost · 2 months

Text

Five Times Winnie Wanted to Confess, One Time Augustine Did

—

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!

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.

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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autismprotocol · 20 days

Text

TMAG Theory Board Update (EP 11-12)

Hi guys sorry about the late posting I've just started a new quarter of college and its been pretty hectic. also got into my school design BFA program so pretty stoked about that! Anyways lets get into the Episode Breakdowns because even though not a lot of lore related things happened I still have a lot to talk about

For the breakdown I'll separate each by episode in sequential order

What Happened in Episode 11: Marked

Celias Rude Awakening- we jump right into the weirdness straight away with Celia waking up on the side of the interstate. she indicates that this is not a weird occurrence and ends the scene by telling someone named Jack that she's "on her way." If you remember episode 8 after Celia and Sam talk to Gerry and Gertrude, she mentions stuff about wanting help with her own mystery. When Sam asks about it she says she's looking into Time travel, other dimentions and teleportation. Many people have theorized that maybe Celia is just a super heavy sleepwalker, but I think the she teleports random places out of nowhere. This could be a side effect of her reality hopping if this Celia is originally from The archives universe.

As for the identity of Jack I'm not quite sure about that yet. I cross referenced the name Jack with past episodes of TMA. The only thing that came up was Jack Barnabas from the statement about dating Agnes Montague (aka an avatar of the desolation and Jesus-like figure for the cult of the lightless flame) So Unless Celia is secretly Agnes of Agnes reincarnated , I can't find any way to link Barnabas to Celia. (if anyone has a theory feel free to send it my way.)

Sam Lore- this one is pretty minor story-wise but I thought it was interesting. Before the statement for the episode is presented we get some classic Sam and Alice Banter ™ most of it is pretty lighthearted but I noticed Sam mention something that could indicate he might be an amputee.

These could not mean anything and I find it weird that it hasn't been mentioned until now but thought it was kind of cool and I will probably be drawing sam with a prothetic leg in the future cause I really like this head-canon. It also begs to question if he is missing a leg. it might have anything to do with his past as a Magnus institute test subject but then again could just be a fun character detail added by Jonny and/or Alex .

The Statement- Getting into the statement we get another Ink5oul appearance. Also possible Ink5oul identifying as she/they. (and lets be honest being a fear avatar is pretty non binary core). I found this Episode gave me a feeling of a hybrid between the Vast, Buried and the Flesh some people are theorizing that is might be a new entity called the Deep but I think that the fear of the ocean could easily apply to the vast or buried. Not much to say about this story though pretty standard Magnus horror that also gave us a hint to what Ink5oul's goal could be/which entity they serve.

Post Bonzo- Gwen has a debrief with Lena after her first Externals Liason assignment and her meeting with Mr. Bonzo. Undoubtedly Gwen is still pretty shaken from her encounter, even arriving late to work due to sleeplessness. Gwen is able to ask Lena a few questions mainly she wanted to know who's name was written on the letter given to Bonzo

Lena is largely unhelpful but tells Gwen she should have worked it out by now and if not to pay close attention to the case load for the next couple of days. before the latest episode my guess was Klaus because that is the only person mentioned so far that the OIAR intends to kill. but more on that later

Marked- Now were getting to my favorite thing about this episode. This episode title can have two meanings. The first is the more literal interpretation. Tattoos are marking of the body and the case this episode was all about tattoos so easily a good name would be marked. But I believe this is a red herring meant to misguide listeners who have not consumed all 200 episodes of TMA because if you know the world of Magnus Archives the term Marked takes on a entirely different meaning.

In TMA the term marked is used to indicate that somebody has been influenced by one or more or the fears and are one their way to becoming an Avatar. I think this could be a coded way to tell the audience someone in the OIAR has been marked. I have two potential candidates

Alice Dyer- Alice has been having dreams about the Institute after her and Sam's adventure into the ruins. also she mentions feeling like someone's watching her (common to people influenced or fed upon by the Ceaseless Watcher/The Eye) My guess if she is marked it would be by the Eye.

Gwendolyn Bouchard: Probably the most likely culprit. The main way an entitly tends to mark people is through encounters with other avatars. Gwen has just had an encounter with Mr Bonzo last episode who I strongly believe must be an avatar of some sort.

What Happened in Episode 12: Getting Off

Aww Sam!!- Sam asked Celia out and it was adorably awkward. not much to say I just loved this interaction and I'm longing for a new Magnus brand office romance hopefully is wont be an agonizing slowburn that ends tragically like a certain pair of morons from Archives (I love you Jon and Martin but Jesus christ)

It's Bonzo time bitches!!- Probably one of the most gruesome Magnus statement I've ever listened to (good work Alex) Mr Bonzo completely annihilated some poor dude at his bachelor party. Based on the date of the Incident the I can confidently say that whoever Baz (the groom) was he was our mystery person the OIAR sent Mr Bonzo to get rid of. Along with some of the bloodiest imagery we learned a few things about Bonzo. The most interesting detail is that Bonzo has to be summoned by playing his theme song I think the CD of his theme song acts somewhat like the tapes did in TMA by materialising out of nowhere. Also fun fact you know that torn seam that is right down Bonzo's middle? that is actually is his mouth lined with rows sharp teeth so I guess I know that now (so fun) Moral of the story dont f*ck with Mr. Bonzo

Alice knows something: Theres been this recurring audio glitch throughout TMAGP thatnks to a few extremly observent fans we have started to relize that these glitches are not at all random and are actually letting the audience know when a character is lying (i actually reposted somones deepdive into all the istances of this glitch so far if you guys are intrested in knowing more) why i bring this up now is becuase since we know when any charater is lying we also know when they are being truthful if there is no glitch when they say somthing and at the end of this episode this interaction occurs

Alice goes ahead and makes a joke about this to annoy Gwen but the fact theres no audio glitch when she says "I know" means she does actually know who is behind the OIAR and is activly refusing to share it with Gwen or the others. What do you know Alice!?

and that's about it im already loving these next batch of episodes and am so excited to learn more (ERROR has to show up somtime )

thanks to everyone who resonded the poll on the last update I will continue to include drawings into the breakdown even if it takes me a little bit of time to post. anyways I wrote this all in one sitting and I'm about ready to pass out so thanks again and the ask box and comments are always open for discussion and theory crafting.

-Echo

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thunderstruckcincerary · 8 months

Text

STOP INFANTILIZING JAKE ENGLISH. STOP TREATING HIM LIKE HE IS FREE OF CONSEQUENCES.

Jake English is such an interesting character because the way he is written infuriates me (in a good way). I saw a particular text post saying basically that Jake English did nothing wrong and that Jane is an asshole for being upset at him. This is just… Wrong. I think a lot of people in general like to try and make Jake seem like he cannot do any wrong because he has neurodivergent traits and is heavily implied to be neurodivergent. This is not to say Jake was entirely in the wrong in some situations, but neither were his friends when they became upset at him. Because, guess what Tumblr, they are teenagers and teenagers are flawed as fuck.

The main thing I would like to talk about is the pages where Jane yells at Jake (starts at page 5521).

While obviously Jane’s passive aggressiveness did not help the situation whatsoever, she was very clearly upset at the fact that one of her only friends forgot about her birthday. After he realizes he forgot, he starts making up excuses. Obviously his forgetfulness is not his fault but I feel like Jane’s slight is definitely not unjustified.

Not to mention he doesn’t even say “happy birthday” to her once during the conversation and instead makes stupid quips and proceeds to dump his relationship problems onto her. Before then though, he goes on a huge ramble to try and avoid his problems (aka what he was initially going to talk about with Jane).

During his conversation with Jane where he should be moving on as he’s decided to, it’s obviously complete filler of a conversation where he repeated over and over how Jane is 16. He’s only talked to her about his issues for so long it’s obvious that he doesn’t know how to initiate in a normal conversation with her anymore. When she finally gives him the go ahead to say it (likely because she was tired of a nonsense filler conversation) he all too eagerly tells it as if he was just biding his time for when she’d let him speak. It’s an asshole move really.

Obviously communicating with your friends and being there for them when they are struggling is good, but whenever Jake seems to talk to Jane, it is only really about his problems. Not to mention, he never talks to the person he’s having issues with (majority of the time Dirk) and instead ghosts them for weeks on end.

Not to mention he’s the one to push her into the conversation.

If you actually read the conversation you will also notice that her messages become more sparse and short while Jake’s get longer while he rambles.

When Jake says “laying low” he means ignoring and avoiding Dirk’s attempts to actually try and talk. Not to mention he also insults Dirk by saying he is “needy” and that essentially saying he is tired of Dirk’s company.

And here we fucking are folks, the bread and fucking butter of this whole convo, the shit and jam. Saying that Dirk is annoying and that his “paranoid prophecy” (you know, the one about all of his friends hating him?) is going to come true, aka saying that he does hate Dirk and no longer even wants to interact with him. And guess what? Jake is not even trying to communicate with Dirk on the matter and is instead dumping all this shit ON THEIR FRIEND.

Anyways, let’s skip to when Jane starts getting upset.

In this scene, Jake is practically ignoring her until she basically begins screaming at him. Not to mention the two last messages from Jake are extremely dismissive and so incredibly un-self aware.

Again with his strange quips and being weirdly self deprecating and pity-ing towards himself.

You can very clearly tell she’s upset, reclaiming something she let be their thing but changing it to just hers. Instead of doing the rational thing which would be to apologize, continue this at a later date or ask what you can do to make it up, he focuses on the semantics of the phrase, trying to come up with a new one. This is very obvious that he’s avoiding the topic because he’s uncomfortable with the thought of facing these issues.

After that, on page 5528, she TELLS him the issue and proceeds to keep doing the thing that’s making her UPSET.

She then freaks out again and then Jake finally tries to do something smart by insisting that they talk about it tomorrow (something JANE insisted on EARLIER) and then when she gets more upset and Jake proceeds to basically Jane not to be upset (“Aw come on jane. be a sport.”)

TLDR; stop woobifying Jake English and acknowledge the fact that he also fucks up, just like his friends.

#homestuck #jake english #jane crocker #if you don’t like jane crocker i do not like you #but seriously stop treating him like he is free of consequences because he is neurodivergent #dirk strider #homestuck meta

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scoobydoodean · 3 months

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so i’ve always been annoyed by the belief that “sam and dean are toxically co-dependent, especially dean!” like it just baffles me once i remember all the times they’ve been apart without one of them being dead (and actually including post swan song to an extent), but i’ve never been able to properly articulate why i think dean at least isn’t really co-dependent on sam. like there’s a difference between being (co)dependent on somebody and dean’s parentification right? thanks!

I'll preface this by saying I am not a medical professional nor have I studied academic literature on codependency in great detail. That said, "codependency" is usually just a buzzword used colloquially to describe people who are obsessed with each other anyway. I address the colloquial use and how Sam is much more unhinged here. I'm guessing the colloquial use is really more what you mean, but if you're looking for something different or a little more specific than that, I can probably write or point you to some other things I've written if you give me something more specific to go on.

That said, there is something about the way fandom talks about "codependency" between Sam and Dean that bothers me, and I think by reading around about codependency today after I got this ask, and finding out that this term is controversial among mental health professionals as well... I finally figured out why.

I think to a lot of people, "codependent" has become synonymous with words like "needy" and "suffocating". However, the WebMD type articles I started with, suggest that the partner of the codependent party is the one whose needs seem to constantly overshadow and outweigh the needs of the codependent partner in the relationship. While the codependent partner can exhibit negative behaviors, the primary problem of the codependent party is that in being a caretaker, they can lose all sense of their identity and boundaries, and don't know who they are outside of being a caretaker for others. However, this is a more modern take on the term. Because these articles I started with mentioned academic controversy, I then found a few academic papers to skim, and this proved to be even more helpful in understanding why I... don't like this term very much.

First, the historical origins of it are... off-putting. The term "codependency" first emerged in academic literature in the 1940s to describe wives with alcoholic husbands who behave as "enablers" [1, 2]. I probably don't have to point out how different things were for women back then, and how rampantly sexist that context makes this first wave of literature sound, but it's discussed extensively in this article. Second, there is more stigma associated with the term partly because Alcoholics Anonymous (shocking /s) latched onto it starting in the 60s and 70s:

The influence of the AA culture in shaping the concept of codependency as an illness offered the idea that people who were close to the substance user were themselves suffering from an illness (O’Briean and Gaborit 1992). These people were viewed as enablers and coalcoholics (Cotton 1979). [ 1 ]

I... think I am probably not the only one who finds that utterly rancid to read (some academics writing on the subject certainly seem to):

According to Gus Napier, a noted family therapist, it is "ridiculous" to label codependency as a disease, because it is a culturally conditioned response of an overfunctioning person in relationship with an underfunctioning person (Meacham, 1990-1991). [2]

Some researchers who have pushed the term "codependency" as a diagnosis have actually suggested that literally anyone who is living with someone with an addiction should be called co-dependent by definition, regardless of any behavior they may exhibit, which tells you a lot about the lack of consensus and how meaningless the term can be [2]. The term (especially within the disease model where codependency itself is a from of addiction) has been criticized by many researchers for the misogyny through which the term originated, for unproductive negative labeling and pathologizing of people (especially women) dealing with incredibly difficult situations with their loved ones, for victim-blaming people (especially women stuck in abusive relationships) for the actions of their partners, for tangentially—negative stereotyping about people with serious addictions, and for conflating addiction with interpersonal problems, and in the extreme case—for suggesting separation from ones family is the solution to addiction and supporting someone with an addiction somehow always enables them [1, 2].

Since the original stream of literature related to addiction, codependency has rebranded and expanded into literature on family experiences with abuse and mental and physical illness. Which is where we get articles like this one I already linked. The codependent party is still a caretaker in these settings, caring for the needs of a loved one who is ill. Still, "codependency" is not an official medical diagnosis (i.e. not in the DSM-5). It's a term that has been used in academic literature by mental health professionals, when trying to describe a range of behaviors within dysfunctional families. These researchers do not agree on the term's meaning or on whether it even is or should be a diagnosis. Many are interested in it only from an interpersonal or personality perspective, which is also where we should stick.

Taking all of this into account though, I think the very first thing we have to ask ourselves is what exactly we get out of using the term "co-dependency" to describe Sam and/or Dean when the term doesn't even really have an agreed-upon meaning. Is the intention to write interesting character analysis, or is the intention to glorify or criticize using a term that has historically stigmatized understandable human reactions to troubled family situations? I think the goal has perhaps too often been the latter.

That said, I've already been referencing it, but I think this article does a good job of summarizing much of the literature, and then actually focusing on people who do choose, of their own accord, to identify with the term "codependent" because it is helpful for them in understanding their own lived experience and their patterns within relationships. I don't think there's anything wrong with wanting to explore this as it relates to Sam and Dean with the right motivations. If you read the accounts of the respondents who choose to identify with the term, you'll see shades of Sam and Dean I think (I have written something pretty close to the chameleon-self about season 1 Dean, and I can apply that one to Sam too through his attempts to fit in at Stanford). When it comes to my experience with these characters however, I just don't find that I personally see any value in analyzing Sam and Dean through the word "codependent" given it's lack of agreed-upon meaning professionally and colloquially.

It seems to me that the term itself leads to more confusing conversations instead of less confusing ones because of the lack of clear definition, and the potential for negative stereotyping instead of actual edifying analysis is extremely off-putting to me. It just doesn't do anything for me personally. The issues to which it relates I think are interesting (especially parentification which is a term I do find useful), and I think criticisms leveled against the term are also useful to read in understanding ones own struggles with how fandom tends to frame Dean as a caretaker who they believe is actually somehow responsible for everyone else's decisions. But I think that perhaps I prefer words and concepts that are better defined than the muddiness of the term "codependent".

Lastly: Even if I'm not a particular fan of the term, the fact is that the actual show uses the term twice—in season 5 (shoutout to butch--dean's transcript search engine). Once in 5.11 "Sam, Interrupted" (to Dean):

DR. FULLER Well, to be frank, uh, the relationship that you have with your brother seems dangerously codependent. I think a little time apart will do you both good.

First, this dude doesn't really know what's going on and thinks Sam and Dean are having delusions. However, in season 5, Sam's experience with demon blood is repeatedly paralleled with drug or alcohol addiction, and Sam is someone for whom Dean has been made to feel responsible for most of his life. This episode addresses Dean's overly burdensome responsibilities in other ways and it's also come up in the past in 1.12, 2.09, 2.10, and 4.05. I prefer to discuss this theme with much more specific terms. In this case, I would say Dean has an "overactive sense of responsibility to others", originating first with his childhood experiences with parentification. Sam also has a tendency to try and make Dean shoulder responsibility for his decisions when they backfire, and does so multiple times related to the demon blood (4.04, 4.21, 5.05). Cas and Zachariah also both blame Dean for Sam breaking the last seal because he didn't stop him in time (5.01, 5.02) and Bobby criticizes how Dean responds to Sam's addiction (4.22).

And then again in 5.18 "Point of No Return", specifically when Zachariah (my favorite manipulative angel) tries to get Adam to be on his side by basically calling Sam and Dean creepy incestuous weirdos:

ZACHARIAH So you know you can’t trust them, right? You know Sam and Dean Winchester are psychotically, irrationally, erotically codependent on each other, right?

This one honestly to me is just Zachariah doing Zachariah things. I'll reach these episodes on my rewatch fairly soon though, so we'll see if I end up talking about it more then.

Bacon, I., McKay, E., Reynolds, F. et al. The Lived Experience of Codependency: an Interpretative Phenomenological Analysis. Int J Ment Health Addiction 18, 754–771 (2020). https://doi.org/10.1007/s11469-018-9983-8

Anderson, S. C. (1994). A Critical Analysis of the Concept of Codependency. Social Work, 39(6), 677–685. http://www.jstor.org/stable/23717128

#mail #5.11 #5.18 #parentification #family chains

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