#if there's a message of inspiration to kids or teenagers its HIM

[doctorweebmd]

me, watching any shounen with any protagonist: ok but izuku midoriya is better

#I SAID WHAT I SAID #simultanously watching dbz and bsd right now #...i love dbz but the power creep in the frieza is insane #like ok fine great goku is a super saiyan what if gohan ended up stronger than both he and vegeta what if it was a message about #the power of kindness and humanity WHAT THEN #also i love atsushi dont get me wrong but... #like i get it his power is unique and important and whatever #but WHY #WHY IS IT SO IMPORTANT #why can he just USE IT #the reason izuku midoriya is the best... #well #let me be brief (1/456) #...obviously i jest but... like... #my boy isn't special. thats the thing. he's powerless but works his ass off constantly to keep up with others #he wasn't born special. he's not an alien. he isn't being manipulated by some grand order. he's just... deku #if there's a message of inspiration to kids or teenagers its HIM #you don't HAVE to be born special #(another reason why i hate the dfo theory tbh...) #he doesn't even have some ridiculous dramatic backstory. he's got a mom. he's well fed. he's a little bit of a lonely bullied dork but that #such an inherently #normal HUMAN problem #and despite being normal. HE PERSEVERES. #anyway is there ever a day i dont think about izuku midoriya? #don't GET ME STARTED ON RIVALS #katsuki is really THAT BITCH #vegeta? get out of here #akutagawa? i desire him carnally but NOT EVEN #NOBODY DOES IT LIKE HIm #THE BUILD-UP. THE TENSION OF CHILDHOOD FRIENDSHIP

[jakes3resin]

Can you tell us about your other fics if you already have an established plot?

I'd love to! So there's quite a number of them I won't lie. I tend to get inspired by the randomest things. These are all in various stages of plotted out and written.

A/B/O fic (technically turning into 3 fics) that follows Bucky & Buck through the war, described below.

Courting Arc (top of my list to finish writing) - Bucky POV as he is anonymously courted during his time in the states just before he gets sent over to England (there's a post I'm basing my writing around I'll link it in a moment) <- published

England Arc- a quick look into their lives as they run missions with A/B/O elements (this will be pretty short I think) mostly snippets of scenes from the show just now with Omega Bucky and Alpha Buck <- published

Stalag Arc - Omega Bucky and his awful time in Germany. Here is where we see what being an Omega in war is really like in my omegaverse. Bucky is the highest ranked Omega in the camp meaning he's technically 'in charge' of keeping those Omegas in line. He's tested by his heats, keeping his pack together, and finally by a German order that could tear Buck and Bucky apart. This is a big fic for me to prepare for, and I'm building up to it by writing the Courting Arc first <- next on deck

Biker Gale AU (my beloved, genuinely obsessed with this AU) - this was inspired by one of hogans-heroes AUs. So, Gale leads an outlaw-esque biker club, and Bucky used to be his right hand (and lover) except one day out of the blue he just disappeared. Gale does everything he can to find Bucky, but there's no trail to follow, no clues to put together, nothing. Fast forward about two years, Bucky arrives on Curt's doorstep holding a small baby with the brightest blue eyes and prettiest blonde curls and begs Curt to watch his baby for 5 days. 5 days later Bucky comes back in town bruised to all hell with the FBI on his tail with their own nefarious reasons for tracking Bucky down. Bucky has nowhere else to turn especially since when he comes back to Curt's he finds Gale holding his little baby. (This could be A/B/O I haven't decided, but it's definitely at least mpreg)

Amnesia fic - this is based off of a post I made about the effects of Bucky getting hit over the head like 3 times in the span of two days, its... somewhere (edit: here). But its about Bucky waking up with no memory of who he is just before he gets interrogated by the Germans and sent to Stalag Luft III where he meets a man that his heart rejoices at seeing but his mind doesn't recognize. Buck of course has to deal with the love of his life forgetting him.

Magic AU - Bucky is a Scamander and its now everyone's problem to deal with it. The tag to find all of my ramblings for it is magic au (not that Tumblr's tag system works), and @getinthefuckingjaeger just wrote the best ever fic of Bucky and Theseus so go read that.

I've also got a few paragraphs written of Foster Kid Bucky somewhere but that might never see the light of day (that's also from a hogans-heroes AU) where Bucky is a jaded teenager just trying to make it to 18 to get out of his shitty foster placement when in comes Buck whose mother finally divorced his dad, got custody of her kids, and moved to her hometown to escape. It's about a Bright Buck meeting a Jaded Bucky (a flip on their usual dynamics)

Blonde Bucky AU - I wrote a blurb on the Twin Cleven AU post, and the idea of Bucky bleaching his hair on a drunken night out with Curt and Bubbles has haunted me since <- published as well

There might be more? But these are the only ones I can remember off the top of my head right now that are plotted out beyond oh that'd be a good fic. I have a lot of time spent sitting and waiting right now, so I have the ability to write a multitude of fics. I'm happy to talk about any of these fics if you want to come into my inbox or my messages.

#asks #my writing #buck x bucky #clegan

[black-arcana]

LZZY HALE: 'If It Weren't For SKID ROW In My Bones, I Would Not Be The Rocker I Am Today'

HALESTORM's Lzzy Hale says that "there will be blood left on the stage" after she performs with SKID ROW later this spring.

The 40-year-old singer, who has fronted her band HALESTORM for more than two and a half decades, will handle the vocal duties for SKID ROW for four shows only after the group's fourth frontman since Sebastian Bach's departure — "Swedish Idol" contestant Erik Grönwall — quit the band to focus on his health.

Earlier today (Friday, March 29),Lzzy shared an admat for her four appearances with SKID ROW and she wrote in an accompanying message: "This is totally wild! I can't believe my VHS audition tape finally made it in the mail! (I kid, I kid)

"I started listening SKID ROW when I was a teenager growing up on the east coast in central Pennsylvania. They were one of the only bands at that time that truly bridged the gap for my love of 80s big choruses and riffs, but had the same poignant dirt and grime that was seeping into the cracks of my mind during the 90s. By the early 00s HALESTORM was well coming into its own, inspired by these powerful songs that helped me unlock a door within myself as a young musician. I can say without a second thought that if it weren't for SKID ROW in my bones, I would not be the rocker I am today.

"And this summer, my world turns full circle. Because not only am I able to share the stage as acting front person for this integral band, but even more importantly, I get to call these boys my chosen family. No matter how much we both tour, or how much time has gone by…we light up when we see each other. They have seen me through my rollercoaster ride of ups and downs, all while cheering me on. Time, space, history, age…are all relative, irrelevant and elastic cuz we are all just astronauts cut from the same cloth, worshipping the same magic that is this music. I'm so grateful for their support of me in my career, and as a fellow human.

"Love you guys! There will be blood left on the stage!"

In the comments section below Lzzy's post, SKID ROW bassist Rachel Bolan wrote, "Sister from another mister", while SKID ROW guitarist Scotti Hill added, "This is going to be so much fun!"

SKID ROW shows with Lzzy Hale on vocals:

May 17 - Walker’s Bluff Casino Resort – Carterville, IL May 18 - Riverside Casino & Golf Resort – Riverside, IA May 31 - Nugget Casino Resort – Sparks, NV June 01 - Hard Rock Live Sacramento – Wheatland, CA

HALESTORM covered SKID ROW's "Slave To The Grind" for the 2011 EP "ReAniMate: The CoVeRs eP". The band has also performed the track live, as can be seen in the video below.

Grönwall, who was diagnosed with acute lymphoblastic leukemia in March 2021, is immunocompromised, which made touring difficult.

"I'm getting stronger and healthier every day but after consulting my doctor I need to allow myself more time to recover, which I can't do as the lead singer of SKID ROW," he said in a statement. "That's why I have reached the tough decision to move on."

The SKID ROW members said in a statement that they are "proud of what they have created and accomplished with Erik over the past two years" and "wish nothing but the best to him and his health. To celebrate the last two years, the band will be releasing a live album that perfectly captures this moment of time in the band's 35-plus-year history, to be announced soon."

In September 2021, just four months before he joined SKID ROW, Grönwall released his new cover version of "18 And Life" via all streaming platforms.

In late March 2022, SKID ROW released its first single with Grönwall, "The Gang's All Here". The song is the title track of the band's latest album, which arrived in October 2022 via earMUSIC.

SKID ROW played its first show with Grönwall on March 26, 2022 at Zappos Theater at Planet Hollywood Resort & Casino in Las Vegas, Nevada as the support act on the rescheduled dates for SCORPIONS' "Sin City Nights" residency.

#lzzy hale #halestorm #Youtube

[animebw]

Short Reflection: Belle

In a sense, Belle feels like the movie that Mamoru Hosoda has been building up to his entire life. Looking back at his work, Hosoda is primarily obsessed with three themes that appear time and time again in his movies. 1: Fairy tales (Wolf Children, Boy and the Beast). 2: Sci-fi, particularly time travel and cyberspace (The Girl Who Leapt Through Time, Summer Wars). 3: How those fantastical elements intersect with naturalistic, real-life stories of family and coming of age (Literally all those previous films). Those three themes permeate Hosoda’s filmography, but they’ve never all intersected at once... until now. Here, at last, we have a near-future sci-fi yarn that uses cyberspace to re-imagine a classic Disney fairy tale as the backdrop of a classic teenage coming-of-age story involving complicated family matters. All of the director’s fixations have finally been married in a single package, the definitive example of everything that inspires his creative process.

It’s just a shame the end result is such a disaster.

Okay, “disaster” is probably too harsh. Belle is far from the worst film ever made, and in the rare moments where everything clicks together, it’s damn near perfect. But my god, this movie is a mess. It’s at least three different stories fighting for attention at once, never coming together in the way they’re so clearly trying to, continuously pushing each other out of focus so no one thread is ever developed enough to matter. It jumps back and forth between ideas with minimal justification. It switches its emotional core at least twice without properly resolving what came before. And when it tries to tie everything together for the climax, it runs into yet more problems that transform what should have been a barn-burner ugly cry masterpiece of a finale into a confused and troubled message that doesn’t seem to know what it’s saying and might even end up saying some unintentionally really shitty things. I have liked and loved so much of Hosoda’s work, but this is unquestionably the worst thing he’s ever put out.

Our story, as you can probably guess from the name, is a take on Beauty and the Beast. Well, sort of. It actually starts with our protagonist Suzu joining the new cyberspace world U, a place I can only describe as VR Chat on all the steroids ever. It’s basically an entirely new virtual world that’s supplanted or fully integrated all other forms of social media, so the entire digital world uses it as a community hub. And if you’re already thinking this sounds suspiciously like the premise of Summer Wars, well, yeah. Hosoda likes his motifs, what can I say?

Anyway, the reason Suzu is drawn to U is because it’s an outlet for her to rediscover her love of singing. Singing was something that she shared with her mother, but after her mother died saving someone else’s kid from a flood, Suzu sunk into a depression that basically crippled her ability to sink without descending into a mess of emotions. The real world has become a listless place for her, a place where her connections to other people- including her father, who god bless him is trying his best to carry on- fray and fade more and more every day. But in the virtual world, hidden safely behind an anonymous, much-prettier-than-her-real-face avatar? Suddenly, she’s able to connect with those emotions again and sing unchained by her trauma. And thanks to a lucky video of her performances going viral, she suddenly finds herself possibly the most famous person in the digital frontier, a mega-diva whose songs inspire millions without anyone knowing who she really is. Everyone flocks to hear her sing, she’s beloved and over-scrutinized by everyone... while in real life she’s still an emotionally stunted teenage girl trying to reconnect with what it means to find happiness in life.

It’s at this point in my plot summary that a lot of you are probably asking, “Okay, but where does the whole Beauty and the Beast thing come in? Because that seems like an awful lot of setup for an entirely different movie that doesn’t leave much room for that Disney homage I was promised.” And... yeah.

Yeah.

This is what I mean about Belle feeling like multiple stories fighting for attention. After speedrunning the mom-death-to-digital-superstar plotline I mentioned above with liberal use of montage, the Beast literally comes crashing through the wall of one of Belle’s concerts, and she decided to take an interest in the bestial avatar pursued by justice-seeking mobs because... well, pretty much because. It literally feels like the story’s been hijacked and yanked down an entirely different path than the one it was setting up. And from then on, the plot just never comes together, it bounces back and forth between Suzu’s teen-melodrama struggles in the real world and full-on Disney homage in the digital world, but there’s almost nothing tying them together until the finale. The two sides of Suzu’s journey feel so disconnected they might as well be separate movies. And sometimes it feels like not even Hosoda understood these two stories were supposed to be part of the same movie. Suzu literally has two romantic subplots running simultaneously, one in the real world with her childhood friend and one in the digital world with the beast, and never once does it acknowledge the fact that she’s pining after two guys at once. It’s like she entirely forgets the other guy exists as soon as she leaves his world behind and goes right back to devoting all her attention to the other dude. This is literally the easiest conflict generator you can come up with in a YA story, and Belle can’t even do that right.

And because of this disconnect, both sides of the story are left feeling painfully skin-deep and skeletal. We don’t even get to hear Suzu sing once before her mom dies, so the attempts to wring drama out of her re-finding her voice in U feel like development for a conflict we never even set up. This should be the driving force of the movie’s emotional core, but because the setup is so rushed en route to aping Disney, huge parts of it feel like an afterthought. And the cyberspace side of things is somehow even worse. I don’t ask for exhaustive realism in my speculative sci-fi, especially one that’s literally based on a fairy tale, but I could write a whole separate essay on how U’s world makes no goddamn sense as anything beyond paper-thin allegory. It seems to exist as a perfect libertarian utopia where everyone has true freedom and everyone gets along perfectly, which is so laughably Not How Real Life Works I have to wonder if Hosoda’s actually, like, spent time on the internet at all. The closest it comes to doing something clever with the concept is re-imagining the Gaston figure trying to kill the beast as essentially a moral police doxxer who goes around trying to unmask “dangerous” users’ public identities while spouting the rhetoric of self-righteous justice to justify his hate campaign. But even that is shamefully under-utilized because of how fragmented the narrative is.

Actually, that’s a lie, the best part of the whole cyberspace side of things is a brief moment where Belle’s exploding popularity is showcased by people remixing her songs into different musical styles like electro-swing and hard rock. As someone who’s consumed his fair share of Megalovania jazz covers, I had to laugh at how accurate that was to the online experience.

But it’s in the Beauty and the Beast re-creation itself where Belle’s biggest ambitions and failures lie. Because of how little reason we’re given for Suzu to care about the Beast, every scene she has with him, recreating or paying homage to the most famous beats from the original Disney movie, feels hollow. It’s not until we reach the final act and finally discover the Beast’s identity in the real world that it becomes clear what this whole enterprise is even about. And good god, it is a can of worms. I won’t spoil anything, but the final act is where Belle finally starts trying to pull all its disparate threads together, connecting Suzu’s emotional trauma to what the Beast is suffering and dropping in some uncomfortably real portrayals of familial abuse and the difficulties our world has responding to it. It’s the moment the fairy tale crashes into reality, where the larger-than-life emotions become a vessel to channel something real and raw and powerful... and it ends up Disney-fying the issue to such an extent it honestly feels kind of insulting. You cannot treat real, grounded abuse the same way you treat a fairy tale about a monstrous being learning to love again. You cannot wave a magic wand over something this potent and pretend that makes everything okay. Hosoda used to be so good at marrying the grounded and fantastical sides of his stories, but ever since Wolf Children he’s just been getting worse and worse at it. You were a pro at this, man, what happened?

Look, I don’t hate Belle. If I’m honest, I don’t even dislike it. It’s a wildly ambitious movie trying to do so much at once, and it’s so earnest about it I want to root for it on principle. If nothing else, it’s certainly a gorgeous-looking movie, and the entirely-CG portrayal of the digital world marks another strong step forward for gorgeous and artistic CG anime. Belle’s avatar in particular does a freakishly good job of capturing the precise feel and movement of modern day Disney Princess design; you could slot her into Frozen and she wouldn’t feel out of place. But when the best, most fully realized scene in your movie is a romantic confession between two minor side characters with almost no impact on the main plot (I’m not even kidding, that scene is fucking wonderful), something has clearly gone wrong. Despite trying to say so much at once, it just isn’t well constructed enough to properly say anything at all. And unless Hosoda pulls himself out of this slump very soon, we may sadly have to come to terms with the fact that his days as a certified master are behind him. Until then, I give Belle a score of:

4/10

God, that was disappointing. Please let his next movie be better.

#anime #the anime binge-watcher #tabw #belle #Mamoru Hosoda #mamoru hosoda sr #2021 aniwatch

[spaceorphan18]

Glee Musical Retrospective: You Can't Always Get What You Want (Sectionals)

Sung by: New Directions Original Artist(s): The Rolling Stones

Oh where to begin with this...

Story Analysis

You can't always get what you want But if you try sometimes, well, you just might find You get what you need

There's a set up for this song earlier in the episode -- where Will is talking Finn into returning to New Directions, and tells him that he can't always get what he wants. Which inspires Finn to pick this song for their big sectionals number.

Thematically - the song works for the story, and works for the whole concept of Glee. In life - you can't always get what you want (hence the general popularity of the song). But sometimes you do get what you need out of your circumstances.

Finn doesn't get the girl - but at least he still gets to be a leader and have those who rely on him (and bonus not having to be a teenage dad).

The glee club doesn't get to rise to the top of the hs hierarchy but, they at least get a family in which they can safely be themselves.

Even Will doesn't get a working marriage - but at least he finds that love still exists.

The song is very on point for the message the show is trying to create. The world sucks - but at least you can find people who are like you enough to make it worthwhile. Glee has never been a subtle show - and this song hits the nail on the thematic head a bit hard.

And I went down to the demonstration To get my fair share of abuse (Singing, we're) Gonna vent our frustration (If we don't we're gonna blow) A 50-amp fuse

Understandably - they don't sing any of the verses that are more related to drugs and drug culture. By the do include the one about civil rights. While it's not a one-to-one comparison, it makes sense that the ND would sing about standing up for being different -- getting shoved down because of those differences and singing about how they want to be them anyway.

Technical Analysis

So, fun fact - apparently Dijon Talton, Harry Shum Jr., Heather Morris, and Naya Rivera helped with the choreography for this number - I wonder if the scripted line about Matt, Mike, Brittany and Santana doing the choreography was a nod to this.

That said - the dancing here is a bit rough and loose. It's intentional (and I'm just completely sidestepping away from the conversation that it's in anyway believable that the ND could pull this off hours before) but it does feel more like the kids bopping around the stage haphazardly than any cohesive dance number.

The cast sounds fine, even if it's a lot of the same arrangement of group numbers we've heard consistently throughout the Front 13. Finn and Rachel lead the group, with Mercedes coming in at the end with that big note. The back up vocals are blocky - and while yes, in the style of a show choir, feels (as usual) too big to be just twelve voices. It's a fine number - but maybe it's me personally - it's one rock number that I don't know if works in its translation to show choir number.

Just a couple of minor things -

The cast is hilariously over the top happy in this number. I can't tell if they're breaking or laying it on too thick.

I can't with the audience standing up as if it were a rock concert. I'm already beyond having to suspend my disbelief for this illogical plot, the audience just breaks my brain a little.

I should mention the ending bit - the hands raised as a call back to DSB.

vs. The Studio Recording : It's becoming apparent to me just how much other sound mixing they do for the episode performances - such as adding audience cheering, atmospheric sounds, etc. Also - there's about another minute of added song. But instead of including the other verses - there's a strange turn in the song that feels very Glee-ish, and less Rolling Stones. It was kind of unexpected since most of these songs have been diligent copies of the original. I wonder if there was a note that the original lyrics were a little too risque but they wanted a longer version of the song?

vs. The Original Version : There are a lot of different 'original' versions of this song - including the one on the album that features a choir - which Glee does mimic in its own performance. I linked one that has a really young Mick Jagger in it, though, cause I thought it was kind of fascinating. Of course - the other thing that picking one of these classic rock songs is a nod to Don't Stop Believin' - the song that set the tone for the series. Glee, of course, does a very much watered down version of it, and unlike how Glee's DSB feels inspired and magical, I think this one feels a little more Kidz Bop-ish.

Anyway - I did a whole deep dive into the original inspiration for the song, and what the verses mean (the chorus is, perhaps, pretty self explanatory). I couldn't find one single account - even Mick Jagger has conflicting thoughts on it. But a lot of it revolves around dealing with culture at the times -- and a lot of it drug culture. As I said above, it doesn't surprise me that almost all of these references are cut from the Glee version - which I have to wonder if it was a note from the network, or a choice that Glee itself made.

#the great glee rewatch #so's musical retrospective #glee #glee music #Youtube

[watchmenanon]

Behind the Scenes of Noah Schnapp’s ‘Stranger Things’ Premiere Look

"I had many fans of him contacting me on Instagram and suggesting to see Noah in pink," says his stylist. "So after discussion and many times trying to find the perfect outfit, we finally decided to go with the pink tone."

By LEIGH NORDSTROM

MAY 16, 2022, 3:26PM

The fourth season of “Stranger Things” comes to Netflix this summer and over the weekend the cast gathered for the premiere in New York. WWD chatted with star Noah Schnapp’s stylist Philippe Uter about the Dior look he chose for Schnapp, accessorized with an unreleased Hublot watch.

WWD: Tell us about the look you created for Noah for the premiere.

Philippe Uter: I really had the desire of dressing Noah in a brand that we never used before. Something trendy, cool but still luxury. Noah is between the teenager and adult life so I couldn’t go too classic nor too young. That is why I decided to collaborate with Dior on this appearance. It is the perfect combination between elegance and streetwear. I always have been a fan of Mr. Kim Jones and I thought this could start a great relationship between the iconic fashion house and us.

WWD: What made you go in this direction?

P.U.: Noah wore lots of toned down colors such as black, navy, beige or light blue. He only wears stronger colors for press appearances where we can play a little bit more. I had many fans of his contacting me on Instagram and suggesting to see Noah in pink. So after discussion and many times trying to find the perfect outfit, we finally decided to go with the pink tone from the spring/summer 2022. We didn’t want to do a full pink look either so I thought, due to the summer coming (finally), mixing with white can be a nice touch on the carpet.

WWD: How long have you worked with Noah?

P.U.: I have been working with Noah since he was 12 year old, so five years ago (I can’t believe he is turning 18 soon). We started our collaboration a bit before the promo of “Stranger Things” season two. I was already a fan of the show and loved these kids’ energy on carpets and promo.

WWD: Are there messages/themes you’ve tried to convey with his style this press tour?

P.U.: The last press tour, we tried to find the best combo between fashion and comfortable/young. This season, it is a bit the same but with a grown up version of it. I tried to go with trendy brands but also cool and easy to wear. Such as Jacquemus, Celine, Acné, Ami Paris, Lacoste, Fauré Le page, Santoni.

WWD: What are some special details about the look?

P.U.: To complete the look, we added a Hublot watch. It resumes pretty well what I said earlier, as it is very luxurious but young and super fun due to its violette shades. This watch is actually showing in exclusivity on Noah’s wrist as it has not been released yet. Also, Noah is wearing a silver necklace chain by Dior. It also gives a little kick to the look.

WWD: Who is your style inspiration for Noah?

P.U.: I am trying as much as possible to not have any inspiration so I can create with Noah something unique to him. I do think about Timothée Chalamet and Justin Bieber a lot. First, due to their similar body shape but also as both have a very strong style: one more fashionable and chic, the other more trendy and street.

#noah schnapp #fashion #for my archives

[rainsmediaradio]

The Joseph Prince Daily Devotional 16th November – One Encounter with His Love

TOPIC: One Encounter with His Love Scripture: Matthew 11:28–30 The Message “Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.”

DAILY GRACE INSPIRATION 16TH NOVEMBER 2023

Many people harbor the misconception that those who are constantly partying, drinking, getting high, and sleeping around are having the time of their lives. Hollywood and the secular media have deified and glamorized the party lifestyle as cool and carefree. They have sold the lie that the YOLO life—the you-only-live-once, consequence-free existence—is awesome. But if you peel back the curtains, you see just how deeply unhappy and depressed these people entangled in a sinful lifestyle are. Our teenagers and youths are being bombarded with these images on their social media channels, in movies, and on television shows, where sinful lifestyles are not only tolerated but also celebrated. Our kids are faced with it daily in school and on their mobile devices. How have many churches responded? By saying, “We have to preach more on the law of Moses, on repentance, and on character.” But do you know what this generation hears when churches preach on those things? One of the testimonies I received from a sister named Melissa, who was struggling with a destructive lifestyle of sin, gives us a pretty good sense of what young people actually hear and what it made her believe: “I didn’t think of going to God and church because people I knew would tell me, ‘You’re going to go to hell because of your choices and how you’re living. God’s angry with you. He’s disgusted with you and He’s not going to bless you.’ Because this was what I constantly heard, this was what I believed about God, and I thought there was no way I could come to Him.” Is there any wonder why some churches are losing the next generation? Young people hear about an angry and capricious God Who is just looking for an opportunity to club them with a big stick and send them to an eternal furnace of fiery damnation. The church proudly proclaims, “We love the sinner but hate the sin.” But in reality, all that those who are struggling with sinful lifestyles hear is, “WE HATE THE SIN,” and they stay away from the church because they understandably equate that with “WE HATE YOU.” That, my friend, is simply not the gospel. The gospel is our beloved Lord Jesus reaching out to the woman at the well who had had five husbands and was cohabiting with another man out of wedlock. The gospel is our Lord Jesus rescuing the woman caught in adultery from the religious mob that wanted to exercise its legal right to brutally bludgeon her to death with rocks. When you observe our Lord Jesus, He was always comfortable with those who were tangled up in sin, so much so that the religious leaders mocked Him and called Him a friend of sinners (Matt. 11:19). He was undeterred by His critics, and just one encounter with His love and grace caused sinners to be transformed forever from the inside out. My dear friend, that’s the grace revolution that we have been talking about throughout this book. Our Lord never endorsed people’s sinful lifestyles; He simply awakened them to His deep and personal love for them, and once they experienced His love, they had the power to walk out of the prison of sin, addiction, and bondage. The woman at the well became an evangelist in her city and many came to know Jesus because of her. The woman caught in adultery walked away with the gift of no condemnation and the power to sin no more. The religious actively shunned the sinner; Jesus actively pursued the sinner. God’s glorious grace opens the prison doors for those trapped in sin and bondage. He has given you the power to walk out freely today. Welcome His deep love for you and you will be set free! Read the full article

[519magazine]

[justtshirts]

Pop nsync dvd volume

#POP NSYNC DVD VOLUME HOW TO#

#POP NSYNC DVD VOLUME MOVIE#

For that I will always be thankful to the makers of Pump up the Volume, and I suspect it'll stay my all-time favorite for years and years to come! Naturally, I rank this one a must-see film, with a 10 out of 10 rating. The film taught me I could use my words to make a difference, and for the past ten years I've been doing just that as a journalist and newspaper editor here in central Israel.

#POP NSYNC DVD VOLUME MOVIE#

On a personal note, I have to say that I hold credit to this movie for a lot of who I am in my grown-up life. Also look out for a very very young Seth Green (Austin Powers, Without a Paddle) as one of the students that helps spread Harry's tapes across the school. Look out for Samantha Mathis's powerful role as Nora DeNiro, Hunter's female admirer, and one of the only people around him that know he's behind the controversial broadcasts. For grown-ups, it serves an interesting conflict about the bounders of democracy and the part the media plays in each and every one of our lives.

#POP NSYNC DVD VOLUME HOW TO#

For the younger ones, it teaches how to stand up for what you believe in and try to right society's wrongs. But can a voice be heard without its owner taking responsibility to its actions? The notions and ideas which arise upon viewing Pump up the Volume are intriguing and fresh until this very day, 16 years after its initial release. As Mark, he tries to keep a low profile and doesn't blend in with the ongoing events, but as Harry he feels he must take a stand and speak up his thoughts and ideas. When stumbling upon information concerning illegal steps his school has taken regarding problematic students, things start to get out of control. Upon gaining fame and listeners, Hunter adopts a pseudonym, one "Happy Harry Hard On" which brings messages of freedom of speech and thought to his fellow classmates at school. Luckily, his parents buy him a ham radio in order to keep connected with his friends back east, and Mark finds a unique way of passing time by transmitting his thoughts about the suburbs and the lousy life of 1990 teenagers, using his ham radio as a local broadcast device. The days are the early nineties, when internet was probably considered radical science fiction at best, and Mark finds himself all of a sudden pretty lonely in the new school. The story presents us Mark Hunter (a then young and extremely talented Christian Slater), a teenage high school student that moves with his parents from the big city to the suburbs, when his father gets a new job as an educational consultant for a middle-America region. This genuine masterpiece doesn't only teach us about leadership and the ability of one individual to make a difference in the world it is also a triumph of the human spirit in general and of the youth over decadent grown-up ideas specifically. Upon viewing the film for the first time as a ten-years-old kid back when it was released in cinemas, I remember feeling profoundly moved by the main lead and the events his character sets in motion. Media Format : Color, NTSC, DTS Surround Sound, Letterboxed. Pump up the Volume (1990) is perhaps one of the most inspiring films that ever found their way to the celluloid forum. Product Dimensions : 5.3 x 7.5 x 0.62 inches 3.2 Ounces.

#Pop nsync dvd volume

[matwith1t]

A/N: Back with angst 👊 Fair warning, this fic is pure angst. All of it 🔪 It’s heavily inspired by Landslide by Fleetwood Mac, and it’s the fic where I project my fear of staying stagnant in life (oops). I have a somewhat working outline for a part 2, but I’d love to know your thoughts!! Also, this fic has a brief smut scene, so if you’re not 18+ hop on over to my masterlist for something else !

Summary: Your long-term relationship with Mat brought you more happiness than anything else in the world. But one day, something in your gut felt different, an emotion that you couldn’t quite place felt off. And maybe, that feeling was the catalyst for you wanting a change in life.

MASTERLIST | LET’S CHAT 🥂 | Mat Barzal x Reader

Warnings: Anxiety, Smut, Swearing // WC: 11.2K // Angst

The sun felt warm against your face and the grass beneath you tickled your ankles. With the month of May nearing its end, the sweet smell of spring could still be detected in the air during the seasonal transition to summer. From a distance, the soft sounds of children laughing while running through the park tugged your lips upward into a small smile.

A sense of ease flooded your body as you laid directly on the grass with your arms tucked behind your head. The vital force that came with being outside in the springtime energized your body to the point where you felt your body produce more natural endorphins. You treasured the outdoors––it would always remain a sacred place for you––but as you laid upon the grass, an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of your stomach clawed its way up at a deliberately slow, and unwarranted, pace.

It felt like a secret message your body was trying to communicate with you, but you didn’t have the tools on how to decode it.

The feeling came in and out, like ocean tides, but you did your best to push it aside when the uneasiness surfaced. So far, everything in your life had been smooth sailing––everything had been going according to plan––so you never paid that feeling any attention.

There wasn’t anything in your life that you wanted to change.

With a deep breath, you tried to inhale as much of the fresh spring air as possible.

“Hey, sleepy.”

With one eye squinted open, you brought a hand from behind your head to shield the sun rays from blinding your face. And when your vision adjusted to the sunlight, you saw your boyfriend at an upside down angle. In his arms he held a blanket as he waved down at you. A smile instantly graced your lips as you shut both of your eyes, before opening them slowly.

As Mat shook out the blanket before spreading it out on the grass, you sat up, and stuck your legs straight out, “You’re a bit late.”

Without looking at you, Mat rolled his eyes, “Practice ran late.”

When the blanket was laid out on the grass, Mat sat down and patted the spot next to him. With a smile, you made your way to sit next to him. Your smile widened when you saw he already had an arm raised for you to tuck yourself into his side.

“It was a morning practice,” you looked up at him through your eyelashes, “It’s nearly four in the afternoon.”

With adoration in his eyes shining just as bright as the spring sun, you felt yourself fall more in love with him. His hand dangled over your shoulder as he  lazily traced circles on your upper arm, “Tito wanted ice-cream.”

A laugh of amusement, mixed with disbelief, escaped your lips as you placed both hands on his chest to push him away, “You liar.”  

With your shove, Mat tightened his arm around your shoulder as the two of you fell backward on the blanket laughing. As you laid on your side, Mat readjusted his arm around you, with your head on his shoulder. His sweatshirt felt soft, and his chest continued to shake with laughter.

“Practice did run late,” Mat reiterated his first point, to which you only hummed in acknowledgement, “And then Tito said he wanted ice-cream, but he wanted to go to this specific shop.” Mat placed a kiss on your temple, “Would’ve told him to go alone if I knew how much time it’d take.”

Again, you hummed, as you rested a hand on his stomach, “Did you at least tell your boyfriend that your girlfriend said hi?”

Mat scoffed at your remark and poked your stomach in retaliation. You laughed at his childish behavior and moved a bit down the blanket so your head now rested just below his heart. He pulled you closer to him, and with your face nuzzled into his sweatshirt, you took a deep breath and savored how much his sweatshirt smelled like home to you.

He smelled almost as good as spring.

The hand that you had on his stomach rose up and down with his even breathing. And as you laid outside on the grass, surrounded by the spring air and the person you loved most in your life, you felt nothing but peace. Comfortable silence wasn’t uncommon in your relationship. While his voice soothed your most anxious thoughts… hearing the birds sing their melodies, listening in on the slight rustle of tree leaves whenever the wind blew, and the sound of steady breathing, paired with Mat’s slightly faster heartbeat, was more calming than anything.

“I can’t wait until that’s us.”

You peered up at Mat to see his vision locked in on something to his right. In order to see what he was referring to, you propped your chin up on his chest. It didn’t take you long to see that something was really a someone. And upon squinting to get a better look, that someone turned out to be a man, woman, and a child.

Your only response to him was a hum as you traced shapes on his stomach, hoping that your touch was strong enough to distract him from the conversation you knew he was about to bring up.

“I love you,” his words were strong, not faltering in the slightest, as he stared down at you with a promising look in his eyes. He picked up your hand––ultimately putting a stop to what you had hoped would distract him from this exact conversation––and pressed a delicate kiss to your knuckles, “So much.”

Mat gently placed your still connected hands on his stomach as you craned your neck up to press a kiss to his cheek, “I love you, too.”

He squeezed your hand twice, a look of amazement in his eyes as he stared up at the sky with a soft smile, “In a few months, It’ll be six years since we’ve been together.”

Your head softly fell back onto his chest as you nodded. Because while you’ll be celebrating six years of officially being in a relationship, the two of you had known each other much longer. He was the annoying kid at the end of the cul-de-sac who chased you around front yards and threatened to give you cooties. And you were the little girl who ran away from him, pretending to be disgusted whenever he got too close, but secretly loved his attention.

And that’s when your crush on him began.

From playing group games with other kids at neighborhood block parties, pairing up to sit next to each other on the bus in elementary school during field trips, to Mat asking you to the winter formal in eighth grade on a dare…Your infatuation towards him only grew.

By the time you were both eighteen, Mat realized his feelings, and asked you out on a date.

Playing games with other kids went to spending one-on-one time with Mat on dates. Sitting next to each other on the school bus as little kids went to Mat picking you up in his car as teenagers. And going to dances together was no longer the end product of a dare.

Even when Mat went to Seattle to play hockey, the two of you still kept the connection while you stayed in Canada. The four years of University were easier; with Mat playing for the New York Islanders, and your top choice for school was in New York City, it didn’t take more than a second thought to accept the offer.

As if Mat had the same memories playing on an endless loop in his head, he let out a relaxed breath, “I can’t wait until we buy a house, tell our kids how we met, and take them to this park.”

The uncomfortable familiar feeling you felt earlier in the afternoon creeped up your stomach, “You really have it all planned out.”

“I have our life,” he squeezed your hand as he made a point to emphasize a shared future between the two of you, “planned out.”

You were positive he could feel your heartbeat increase. And while the pounding of your heart could easily be mistaken for the heightened feelings you felt whenever you were near Mat, you knew something else was causing this distress. There was no one in the world you loved more than Mat. You loved your family because they were family, but you made a conscious decision to love him. And despite some hardships, he chose to love you as well.

But thinking about the future made you squirm.

A future with Mat was all you ever desired. You knew he was the one person in the universe made for you when you were halfway through university. And you were pretty sure Mat knew you were his person by the fourth date.

You still kept some of your notebooks that had doodles in the margin. The psychology notebook from junior year of high school had Mat Barzal, with hearts dotting around his name, in every blank space. And even in university, your senior year thesis notebook had script writing of your name paired with his last name, so you could practice a potential new signature for the future.

Since the seventh grade, this was everything you daydreamed about with Mat; a future together. Happiness always fogged up your mind whenever you thought about a lifetime together with him, you wanted this, but everything felt like it was approaching faster than anticipated. And the undisclosed feeling in the pit of your stomach wasn’t going away no matter how hard you tried to only think about a happy future with Mat.

Wanting to feel anything other than whatever made your stomach churn, you leaned up to press a lingering kiss to Mat’s jaw. Then you pressed another kiss to his neck, and another further down at the base of his throat. With each kiss you pressed to his skin, the feeling subsided more.

When you detached your lips from his skin and sat up, you heard him let out a discontent hum. With his eyes closed, he wasn’t aware of the adoration in your eyes as you looked down at him. You studied everything about his face; the slight pink coloring on his cheeks despite it almost being summertime, the downward curve on the bridge of his nose, and how he somehow still had a slight smile on his face when he wasn’t awake.

A satisfied silent sigh passed through your lips as your index finger trailed across his silver chain. The jewelry felt cold on your fingertips, but with the way Mat still had a hand holding onto yours, your whole body burned like a furnace. Unable to resist the pull you felt toward him any longer, you leaned down and pressed an innocent kiss to his lips. You lifted your head up, pulling your lips away from his, but Mat brought his free hand to gently lay on your cheek as he lifted his head up slightly to bring you back into a kiss.

It was soft, delicate, and reminded you of the first kiss you shared after your second date outside of his car when he dropped you off in front of your house.

With his thumb caressing your cheek, his fingers curled around your neck to bring your lips closer to his. And as you smiled into the kiss, he slowly lifted himself up until he was properly sitting. You pulled away from the kiss again, not wanting to get carried away while in public, but Mat followed your lips and kissed them one last time.

Your hand that was on his shoulder slowly inched toward the back of his neck where you played with the ends of his hair. He leaned his forehead against yours and whispered, “Wanna get pizza?”

You threw your head back in laughter and Mat dropped his head into the crook of your neck, wrapping an arm around your waist for a hug. Leaning into the hug, you continued to thread your fingers through his hair, “Yeah, pizza sounds good.”

“Good,” Mat pressed a featherlight kiss under your jaw as he unwound his arms from around you to stand up. He reached a hand out for you, and with a smile, you placed your hand in his as he pulled you up.  

Once on your feet, he tugged on your arm so that you were pressed flat against his chest, caught in another hug. Never one to deny any of his hugs, you wrapped your arms around his waist as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. His arms were strong and his body felt warm. You melted into his touch like you had for the past five––almost six––years.

But then his stomach grumbled, and you leaned away from him with an amused smile on your face, “Pizza?”

Mat smiled back down at you and nodded, “Pizza,” he said matter of factly as he unwrapped his arms from you and began to fold up the blanket.

When he had the blanket draped over his arm, he reached his hand out again for you to take. Happily, you slid your hand into his, as the two of you began to walk through the park to a pizza place down the street.

The pace of your walk was slow. Normally you wouldn’t mind a slow pace, but it was making the unknown and unwelcome feeling creep back up in your stomach. The feeling seeped through every crevice of your body as Mat recounted a story of how he almost got hit in the face with a puck at practice. And the feeling wedged itself deeper and deeper into the middle of your chest until you arrived at the pizza place.

“Your eyes look pretty today,” Mat offhandedly said as the two of you slid into a table after ordering.

You tilted your head, shoulders instantly relaxing at the sound of his voice, as a soft smile slowly made its way onto your face that was brighter than the sun the two of you just sat under.

You propped your elbows up on the table, resting your chin on your hands, as you looked at the love of your life with nothing but fascination, “Your eyes always look pretty.”

Mat reciprocated your beaming smile.

And the unknown feeling vanished.

–––

The spring air dwindled away and the crisp air of autumn slowly began to replace the weather associated with new beginnings. Even though the seasons changed, the heaviness in your chest you felt in May was still present in September. No matter what you did, or who you spent time with, the feeling continued to grow until it latched onto your deepest insecurities. And it wasn’t until you had an honest conversation with your best friend that she told you the feeling was anxiety.

Anxiety.

What did you have to be anxious about? What was so terrible in your life that made you nauseous in the mornings, kept you up until the late hours of the night, and had you constantly bouncing your leg up and down while sitting? Your life had been going exactly according to plan––exactly how you thought you wanted it to go. All you wanted was for it to disappear, but you couldn’t pinpoint what made you anxious. Which made it hard to try and control the feeling.

But there was one thing you did that proved successful in making the anxiety subside.

With your bare chest pressed up against Mat’s, his fingertips slightly digging into the skin of your hips, you rested your head in the crook of his neck as you inhaled a sharp breath. You had just experienced a shuddering orgasm on his lap, but he wasn’t quite finished.

Mat wrapped an arm around your body and flipped you over. You opened your eyes briefly to see him crawling up your body, adjusting himself in this new position. With raised eyebrows, he offered you a soft smile. And after you gave him verbal confirmation you wanted him again, he nudged your legs apart and guided himself in. You hadn’t fully recovered from the previous act of shared intimacy, but that didn’t matter to you.

The only thing that mattered was getting rid of the tortuous feeling that consumed you.

But when your hips met, and you heard Mat inhale a sharp breath, the feeling lessened.

You always looked forward to that––Mat’s breathless smile when your pelvic bones first connected in a deep thrust. There were other things, too. You knew things about Mat that nobody else knew. Like how Mat always crinkled his nose when he first became aroused. How his biceps were especially ticklish if you dragged your fingertips across them. How it drove him crazy when you would wrap your legs around him, hooking him in to pull him closer. Or how Mat would press a lingering kiss to your cheek when he was perilously close to the edge.

And it was that last movement that brought you out of your head––Mat pressing a lingering kiss to your cheek.

With a ragged breath, you trailed a hand up his arm––skipping his biceps––and curled an arm around his neck. Your fingers delicately moved up his neck as you weaved your fingers through his hair, and then slowly let your hand drag to the side of his face; cupping his cheek. And with a series of quick, deep thrusts with Mat on top, was all it took for your walls to clench around him as you lost your breath momentarily.

As you rode out the high of your orgasm, Mat was close behind. With a few more thrusts, you knew he released when his movements slowed down with a few snaps of his hips. After he inhaled a deep breath and released it through his nose, Mat rested his forehead against yours and then opened his eyes.

“I love you,” he whispered unintelligibly while trying to catch his breath.

You rubbed your thumb over his cheek, “I love you, too.”

He closed his eyes for a few seconds, nuzzling his head into the palm of your hand, before a shy smile broke through. With a gentle peck to your lips, Mat rolled off you and quickly disposed of the condom before rolling back into bed.

When Mat was back at your side, he propped himself up with his elbow and stared down at you. Shuffling a bit down the pillow, you pulled the sheets up to your neck and peered up at him. With his free hand, he took one of your hands and lazily played with your fingers. He went from slowly moving his fingers between yours, to his fingertips leisurely moving from the bottom of your palm to the tips of your fingers. And when he had done that for a few moments, he started tracing the lines on the inside of your palm.

The only sound in the room was the two of you silently breathing; basking in each other's presence after a few moments of shared intimacy. Even in the silence, all you heard was him whispering I love you on repeat in your mind.

Every time he said those words to you felt like the first time. And even hearing the echo of them from your memory caused a scintillating smile to unashamedly grow on your face. You diverted your gaze from him playing with your hand to look at him.

Mat’s eyes were already focused on you.

His eyes were the first thing you fell in love with. You didn’t know if you fell in love with him when you were twelve years old; when his wide, nervous eyes offered you a stick and asked if you’d to join his team for street hockey. Or when you were nineteen; when his earnest eyes were bloodshot as he confided in you that he was scared of losing the connection of your relationship when he went to Seattle. No matter what emotion he held in his eyes, you always loved them.

And even now, his eyes were soft. His eyes were so full of love, but there was another emotion swimming around in his eyes that you had only seen before he asked you out; longing.

You didn’t know what he was longing for as he stared at you. A creased formed in between his eyes as he scrunched his eyebrows together. Removing the arm you had under the pillow, you raised your hand and rubbed the crease until his eyebrows relaxed. He offered you a small smile, but this smile was more one of concern rather than happiness.

Like you did earlier when Mat was on top of you, you trailed your fingers down his cheek until you cupped the side of his face with your palm. Slowly, you caressed his cheek with your thumb.

“Are you alright?” Mat whispered.

It was your turn for your eyebrows to scrunch together and a crease to form between them. And while you momentarily retracted your hand from his face, you snapped out of your shock, and moved your hand up to brush a piece of loose hair out of his face. The piece of hair didn’t stay in its place, so you pushed it back once more, as you tried to distract yourself from the growing feeling of anxiety bubbling up in your stomach.  

The piece of hair continued to fall in front of his forehead, so you focused all of your concentration on making sure it stayed away, “Of course I am, why?”

Mat shrugged his shoulders. And he took your hand that pushed his hair back and intertwined your fingers together, “You seem a little…off.”

You snorted, “We just had sex twice,” your facial expression held a serious look, but your tone of voice was teasing, “Are you complaining?”

Mat let out a breathy laugh as he squeezed your hand, “That’s not––That was incredible––Really really good––definitely not complaining,” he smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes, “I feel like I can say I know you better than anyone else, and…I don’t know.” His eyes dropped to your intertwined hands, and he tried his hardest to force a smile before looking back at you, “It feels like something’s been up the past few days.”

Few months, you wanted to correct him.

You shook your head, trying to ease both of your nerves, “I uh––I’m thinking of looking at grad schools?” you let the little white lie easily slip, “But I’m not seriously looking, it was just a thought.”

Mat playfully rolled his eyes, “Knew something was up,” he brought your connected hands up to his lips to press a reassuring kiss to the top of your hand, “If you do seriously consider grad school, you’re probably the most well off person to apply.” At his confidence in you, you tucked your chin into your chest.

“It’s just…” you inhaled a shaky breath, wanting to come clean about your unknowing anxiety, but something held you back, “I don’t know.”

Mat dropped your hand and slowly stroked the side of your face with the back of his hand, “It’s a lot to think about. But there are plenty of great schools in New York,” when his lips turned upward in a smile, you felt your stomach drop, “Whatever you want, we’ll figure it out together.” Mat pressed a kiss to your cheek, “We have all the time in the world.”

His voice, full of optimism, matched the hopefulness behind his eyes, and his smile finally met his eyes. And the longer you stared into his eyes, you saw a glint of something you had never seen before; devotion.

You don’t know when it happened, but you accepted the fact that you would marry Mat––spend the rest of your life with him. There was no lengthy discussion, but there seemed to be mutual acceptance. Mat always spoke so passionately about starting a family with you when he saw a toddler run around the park. And whenever you drove past a house you liked, you always made a passing comment about how nice it would be to raise a family with him.

You wondered when you started to feel so uncomfortable with the feeling of security.

–––

The month of September was slightly better, but not by much. The anxiety was still present and you kept Mat in the dark about everything. But it was difficult to confide in him when you didn’t even know the root of the problem. You couldn’t pinpoint the cause of anxiety, and you thought the feeling would disappear in June.

But it was now October and your anxiety had escalated to suffocation.

Suffocation.

It felt like there was a bag of twenty-pound rocks tied to your ankles and you were drowning. When you didn’t feel like you were drowning, you felt as if someone was smothering you with a pillow. And when you finally felt free from the smothering, it felt as though someone had cut off your air supply. But there was one thing that temporarily relieved the feeling of suffocation.

And it came with an acceptance email from Georgetown University in Washington D.C.

When you applied to a handful of universities to continue your education, you thought your anxiety was based around a fear of not excelling to your full potential. So, with that in mind, you took the little white lie you told Mat a few months ago and applied exclusively applied to grad schools only in New York City. But a program at Georgetown caught your eye and it was the only school outside of New York you applied to. You hoped for the best, but deep down you had a gut feeling the prestigious school in D.C. would reject you.

But when you received a fairly large envelope in the post, one that was not the size of a rejection letter, you felt a brief moment of freedom.

It is with great pleasure that we offer you admission…

You had read the opening line of the letter ten times before skimming the rest of the offer letter. The amount of confidence and pride you felt swell up in your chest was short lived. Because your new friend, suffocation, quickly swallowed up those feelings.

You had never considered moving out of New York––never considered moving away from Mat––but here you were, internally debating with yourself on whether you should take this offer seriously.

There was too much going on in your head––too much going on in the city––as you walked down the sidewalk. Every step you took toward your home felt like walking on a tightrope.

You had a university acceptance offer…Step one…The university was nearly 300 miles away from Mat…Step two…You had other university acceptance offers for school’s in New York…Step three…But the anxiety only grew when you received acceptance letters from schools in New York…Step four…And all of the anxiety went away with the D.C. offer…Step five…Does Mat have something to do with your anxiety––

You didn’t let yourself finish the last thought.

Mat was your person. There was not a chance the universe would play such a cruel trick on you. Life wasn’t fair, but life wouldn’t rip you away from Mat.

Right before you entered your apartment building, you dug out your phone and called your best friend. Once she picked up, you begged to spend the night at her place, saying you needed to get out of the city. She agreed, but you heard the curiosity behind her voice.

Knowing that mat would be waiting in your apartment, you hurriedly hung up before entering the elevator. The ride up was daunting, and the lights that blinked whenever you rose to a new floor felt as if they taunted you. They were yellow and bright, something you had not felt in quite some time, but the lights didn’t care as they flashed in your face.

When the doors parted open to your floor, you scurried out and opened the door to your apartment. You breezed right in before you changed your and decided to drive straight to Newark.

As expected, Mat sat slumped against the couch cushions as he pointed the remote at the television. He couldn’t seem to pick a channel that held his interest. When he heard the door open, he turned his head and you offered him a small wave as you set your bag on the floor.

“Good day?”

You shrugged your shoulders and walked over to sit next to Mat on the couch, “Average,” you leaned your head on his shoulder, “How was your day?”

Mat mimicked your shrug, “Just practice. Uneventful.”

You let out a snort, “What thrilling lives we live.”

That earned a loud laugh from Mat, “Exhilarating,” he leaned over and kissed your forehead, “So, for dinner? We have stuff to cook, but there’s this new place a few blocks over I thought we could try––”

Lifting your head up from his shoulder, you moved away from him slightly as you brought your legs up to your chest, quickly cutting him off, “I’m actually––I’m going to Newark tonight.”

A few awkward beats of silence passed before Mat spoke with a cracked voice, “Oh?”

Nodding, you leaned your chin on your knees, “Haven’t seen Melanie in a while,” you mentioned your best friend, “Just need to get out of the city for the night.”

“Everything alright?”

Mat’s voice was laced with hesitance, as if he didn’t know if he wanted an answer to his question.

You gulped and hugged your legs closer to your chest, “Yeah I––It’s a girl’s night. We just need to clear our heads.”

Mat nodded in understanding. He pinched his bottom lip between his thumb and pointer finger, “Clear your head,” he repeated cautiously as if he sensed there was an ulterior motive. He closed his eyes, and after a few more beats of silence, he opened them. And you felt your heartstrings tug in your chest when you saw the amount of yearning behind his stare.

“That’s…” he cleared his throat, and nodded his head slowly, as he looked at the television, “good.”

He didn’t phrase his words as a question, but they weren’t a statement either. It was Mat convincing himself that you leaving the city was fine…That you were fine…That the relationship was fine.

To ease his doubts––because there was nothing in your life that you were more certain of than your love for him––you took his hand, “It’s just for one night.” Your voice didn’t waver, and you spoke with double the confidence, hoping to transfer some of it to the boy who sat across from you.

“No, yeah that’s fine,” Mat bit the inside of his cheek, “Time with your friends is good.”

Mat never verbally recognized the small rift forming between you two, but in this moment, you knew he could feel it more than ever. And when you felt him pull his hand away from yours, you panicked and squeezed his hand twice. It caught his attention, and you smiled at him, “We’ll try out the new place tomorrow night for dinner.”

There was a far off look in his eyes, but he nodded in agreement.

Mat only using the bare minimum to communicate with you drove you up a wall. You didn’t like how he avoided conversation, and you didn’t like the feeling in your stomach that came with it. He’s disappointed in you, a voice in your head spoke up, you’re leaving him alone when you know he doesn’t feel confident about your relationship––

In order to silence the voice in your head, you did the only thing that you knew would keep it quiet.

You leaned forward, gently placing both of your hands on Mat’s cheeks, and kissed him. At first when he didn’t kiss back, you feared that you wouldn’t be lucky this time around to quiet your insecurities. The toxic coping mechanism you fell into every time wasn’t working. Panic rose through your body fast, and just when you were about to give up hope, he kissed you back.

A sigh escaped your lips as Mat pressed a hand firmly to your lower back to pull you closer.

You needed to be closer.

His hands carefully held your waist as your hands traveled from the sides of his face to the nape of his neck.

You needed to feel closer.

He kissed you harder, hands creeping up your shirt as he was always one to crave skin-to-skin contact. You let your hands delicately move down his neck to his shoulders––lifting your touch on his skin to avoid his biceps––and let your hands fall onto his chest.

Closer.

You needed to physically feel as close as possible to Mat; because emotionally, you felt as far away from him as ever.

–––

The forty-five minute drive from Long Island to Newark was filled with songs from the shared Spotify playlist you had with Mat. 

He created it when he first went off to play hockey in Seattle claiming it would be a fun way to stay updated with each other's lives. The playlist was full of songs that reminded either of you of each other, upbeat heavy rock songs that Mat listened to before a hockey game, or more mellow songs you heard in a coffee shop while studying.

Since Mat had started the tradition of creating a shared playlist each year, there was a new playlist for almost the entirety of your relationship. And on your lonesome drive to Newark, you pressed play on the playlist from 2015.

You left your apartment after a silent cuddle with Mat that lasted a few hours; legs tangled together, synchronized breathing, and featherlight touches. There was a moment where Mat removed his arms from your waist––he said he was cold––and asked if you had a sweatshirt he could borrow. Reluctantly, you got up and trudged to your room to look for a sweatshirt of his you once stole.

A black sweatshirt caught your eyes and you picked it up. The Seattle Thunderbirds logo printed on the front, you toyed with the hoodie strings, debating on if you wanted to give him his sweatshirt back. It was one of the first ones you sneakily stole from him in the beginning of your relationship. And as much as the sweatshirt was rightfully his, it had made a home in your drawer over the years.

Missing the way his arms felt wrapped around you, you walked back to the couch––Thunderbirds sweatshirt in hand––and offered it up to him. Mat quickly tugged it over his head, ruffling his hand through his already messed-up hair, and then pulled you down to lay next to him.

He left your apartment wearing the sweatshirt.

After replaying the memory of Mat walking out of your place with his sweatshirt, you found yourself at your best friend’s townhouse sooner than expected. She ushered you into her kitchen saying she was almost done boiling the kettle for tea.

The only words exchanged between the two of you so far was a greeting and barely there small talk. She didn’t push you as to why you frantically called her and begged for a night away from New York. But she anticipated that the conversation would come later in the night.

Once the teas were made to both of your likings, Melanie led you upstairs to her rooftop deck. A fond smile crossed your face as flashbacks from all the times the two of you had spent up here. The two of you had met in university, but she was a few years older than you, so she moved out of New York sooner than you.

Most of your deep conversations about Mat took place on this rooftop. From realizing you loved him on this rooftop to coming to terms that there was no one else you’d rather spend the rest of your life with… This rooftop held the realizations of multiple monumental moments of your relationship with Mat.

Next to the sectional couch the two of you sat on, Melanie lifted the lid of the wicker basket and plucked out two blankets. You quickly wrapped the blanket around your shoulders, bracing your body against the frigid air.

As Melanie adjusted the blanket over her shoulders, she spoke up, “Everything alright?”

You took a sip of tea, keeping your vision set straight ahead, “Yeah, I’m alright––it’s just…” you glanced over at her to see she had her eyes raised, silently telling you to rethink your answer, “I don’t know.”

Shoulders slumped over in defeat, you took another sip of tea.

“I think you’re far from fine,” Melanie chuckled, “Got a call from my best friend panicking about how she had to get away,” her voice waned off amusement and turned more serious, “You worried me.”

You nodded in understanding, “Sorry, I didn’t think––Sorry––It’s just everything…” you nervously itched your collarbone and let out a sigh, “Sorry.”

Melanie placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, “Never apologize for what you’re feeling,” her eyes were soft, and full of concern, as she weakly smiled and headed carefully with her words, “Even if you don’t…know what you’re feeling.”

“I got accepted to Georgetown,” you blurted out as you kept your eyes trained on the ground.

Her eyes widened, and a genuine smile spread across her face, “That’s––Shit, congratulations! That’s so exciting! D.C.…Wow.”

With a slow nod of your head, you took a sip of your tea, “D.C.”

A brief silence in conversation revealed everything Melanie needed to know about why you suddenly had to escape from the city.

“Mat doesn’t know?”

You repeated her question as a statement, “Mat doesn’t know,” breaking eye contact with her again, you swallowed down your insecurities, “While like––I don’t know––That’s not why I’m…upset.” Melanie nodded and waited for you to continue your explanation, “Things have been…off.”

“Off? As in recently?” Melanie questioned as you stayed silent. With a deep sigh, she whispered, “How long have things felt off?”

You gulped, “May.”

Melanie’s eyes widened again, but not in the joyous sense like they had when you told her about your graduate school acceptance. Her eyebrows were raised high and her mouth slightly dropped open, “Shit, Y/N, it’s November.’

Again, you nodded and took another sip of tea, “It is November.”

“You’re going to have to do more talking than repeat the last words of every sentence I say.”

The words weren’t meant to be harsh, but her tone of voice still caused you to flinch. Her sentence was the truth, and you didn’t come here to be coddled. You needed someone to be brutally honest with you to help bring you to a conclusion. And you knew you had to offer up more information, or else your little one-night escape away from the city would be pointless.

“I feel stuck,” you breathed out, the last word barely a whisper, as you felt your throat close up, “I feel stuck and I’ve felt this way since May. I don’t know why I feel like this and I really don’t know what to fucking do, Mel. I––I’m so scared.”

Melanie scooted closer to you, “Stressed about potentially going back to school?”

You shook your head immediately. The thought of going back to school was the only thing keeping you sane at the moment. You couldn’t wait to expand upon another area of study that interested you. And you had been feeling this way long before you entertained the idea of going back to school.

“Everything is going so so well with Mat and…I don’t know…I’m happy with how things are now, but––“

“You’re obviously not happy if you can’t talk to him about this,” Melanie cut you off sharply before she inhaled a deep breath, “Maybe you need some change.”

You quirked an eyebrow up and tilted your head, “Change?”

She nodded and offered you a regretful smile; one that people had tucked away for when they had to break not so pleasant news to people they cared about, “Change from…how your life has been going.”

You continued to blankly stare at her as the dots didn’t connect in your mind. Melanie took your silence as a way to continue on with her explanation.

“Maybe D.C. is a great opportunity to start over.”

Suddenly, the crickets that chirped on her rooftop blared like alarms, the blanket you had on felt itchy, and the bitter autumn air smelt stale.

“Start…Over?” You shook your head no as Melanie nodded her head yes, “I have a life built around Mat and a––I have a future with him––That’s not––I can’t––“

“Can’t or won’t?”

“Melanie,” you pleaded with your best friend as the scratchiness behind your throat became uncomfortable, “I can’t do that to him––“

She held up a hand for you to stop talking, “You’ve been with mat since you were like twenty––“

“Eighteen,” you corrected her.

She shot you a glare and pretended like she wasn’t interrupted, “You were children when your relationship started,” she waved her free hand in the air, “There’s no denying that you’ve had a great relationship with him. The two of you have grown so much together, but sometimes things get stuck in a routine and people need a change.” You felt a lone tear trickle down your cheek, “Maybe you need a change.”

You carefully set your tea down on the glass patio table as all of the negative thoughts and feelings ventured out of their hiding places. One by one, they creeped out of every corner––no crevice too small––of your mind, as your subconscious tortured you with the lethal words they created.

With the heel of your palm, you wiped away more silent tears that couldn’t stop falling from your eyes.

Change was something you didn’t handle well. Change was something you’ve never liked. Your heart was saying that this kind of change––a change from Mat was bad––but your heart was screaming. Your heart was screaming about how exhausted it always felt suffocated. Your heart was telling you that there was another way. That you didn’t have to feel like this all the time––how you shouldn’t feel like this all the time.

You wanted to ignore how your heart felt and listen to your head. You wanted to ignore the heartbreaking gaze Melanie sent your way. And most of all, you wanted to ignore how your best friend had a very valid opinion.

You craved Mat’s presence now more than ever.

–––

November ended painfully slow and December came without a care for your feelings.

In the midst of juggling your job, figuring out technicalities that potentially came with continuing your education down in D.C., and keeping up with Mat’s hockey schedule…You were also trying to stabilize a relationship that you desperately clung on to.

Ever since your roof top conversation with Melanie, you felt the relationship crumbling on your end. And only a couple weeks later, Mat seemed hesitant around you. Every touch he gave you held doubt. Every night you went to bed, he shifted further to the other side. And every I love you was said with caution.

He was there physically, but emotionally, he was pulling away right before your eyes.

You loathed the situation that you had created for yourself and Mat. You absolutely hated how you no longer synced up. You wanted to go back to the way things were before the summer hit. You craved the smell of the spring air that was synonymous to the safety you felt in Mat’s presence.

Although, you don’t know how possible that was now.

Change.

Melanie nonchalantly brought up the topic of change whenever you called or saw her in person. She reassured you that she would support your decision––whenever you came to one––but she still favored the decision of change for you. She had your best interest at heart, and while you appreciated that, your best interest was entangled with Mat.

And you knew that the decision she wanted you to make was not in his best interest.

But there was one day in the past seven months that felt normal.

At work, you were offered a promotion. And that same night, the Islanders had their seventh straight win, with Mat scoring a hat trick. You walked out of your director’s office with a smile on your face, and you snuck down to the lobby to call Mat with the good news. He sounded ecstatic for you over the phone, and he asked if you wanted to go to the game tonight so he could see you right after.

Eagerly, you accepted his offer, and you felt butterflies churn in your stomach as if it was the first time he asked you to attend one of his games.

You rushed to get all of your work done as fast as possible, and a few minutes before the clock struck five, you dashed out of the office and made your way to the arena. The game felt electric, Mat played with a sense of newfound desire, and you were ecstatic for him to be playing so well. And when the game was over, and Mat walked out in his game day suit––jacket folded over his arm and tie loosely done––you barreled into him.

Mat hugged you back just as tight, if not tighter, and his reassuring touch reestablished a sense of purpose in your life.

“I’m so proud of you,” Mat whispered in your ear, congratulating you on your promotion, “I’ll love you forever.”

That day filled you with hope.

That day made you smile wider than you had in the last few months. It was a light finally shining through the dreary storm clouds. And that day helped you gain clarity as to what sort of change you needed in your life.

You decided that change was needed if you wanted to keep sane. And you had come to the compromise that you could have a change and still keep Mat. All you needed was a change of scenery. You didn’t know why you thought you needed an ultimatum between the two, and it eased your troubles a little bit, but not nearly as much as you thought it would.

The day after your promotion and Mat’s hat trick, you woke up with your legs tangled with Mat’s, his arm thrown over your waist, and his face facing yours for the first time in months. It was so domestic, something you took for granted early on in your relationship, but once you had it back in your grasp, you never wanted to let go.

But the moment you woke up, his arm around your waist felt like an anchor aiding in your drowning. While it felt as if you were drowning, you also felt safe in Mat’s arms, as if he lent you a hand for rescue. Mat always made you feel safe.

Unfortunately, that was a week ago. And you hadn’t woken up in his arms since then.

Ironically, even though both of you knew something was wrong, Mat had been spending more time at your apartment than his. But the dynamic between you two had shifted: Mat no longer came up to hug you from behind when you cooked at the stove. You no longer pinched Mat’s hips as he walked past you. And the two of you blushed profusely and looked the other way whenever you saw the other in a towel after a shower.

Things had been off emotionally for quite some time. But now physical aspects of your relationship were changing, and a piece fo your heart broke off every time you noticed it.

You wanted change, but not like this.

You were at the small table in your kitchen, waiting for Mat to come back to you. He mumbled about heading to the gym with Tito when the two of you were sitting next to each other on the couch. He tied his laces up, and it looked like he was about to walk toward the door before he turned back around and stood in front of you.

Like every time you stared up at Mat, you fell in love with him all over again.

He offered you the smallest of smiles before bending down to your height. Carefully, he cupped your face with his hand, and you immediately leaned into his touch. A peaceful sigh escaped your lips and your eyes closed.

What caught you off guard the most was when Mat leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips. And just when your eyes opened, he broke away from the kiss. When his eyes finally opened, they were pleading with you. His eyes begged for an answer you could not give him. His eyes urgently wanted for you to tell him what had flipped your entire world upside down.

But his eyes were also full of love and hope; unconditional love for his high school sweetheart and hope that the two of you could make it over this bump.

“I love you,” he whispered just as soft as the first time he said those words to you, “I won’t be long.”

Desperate for more physical contact from him, you weaved your fingers through his brown hair. You knew how much he loved when you massaged his scalp and ran your fingers through his hair. Instantaneously, his eyes closed, and he leaned forward to brush his nose against yours.

You didn’t want him to go to the gym with Tito.

And like the first day you repeated those important three words back to him, your voice was filled with the same enchantment for the man in front of you, “I love you, too.”

With a sigh, Mat opened his eyes. With the way his eyebrows pinched together, you could tell he was intently debating something in his mind. But before you could pry, he seemed to go against his better judgement and pressed another kiss to your lips. While the kiss wasn’t anything special, he lingered longer than his first kiss.

“I’ll be back soon,” he breathed out softly.

He left before you could open your eyes.

Part of you didn’t want to open your eyes because the last thing you saw––that would be ingrained in your brain forever––was the person you appreciated and cared for most in the world, telling you he loved you. There was no better high in the world than that, especially when you had felt deprived from his love for so long.

But that was six hours ago.

You hoped he would only be gone for two or three hours, but your hope dwindled away with every hour that passed.

You were messing around with your laptop when you heard a key in the door handle. And when you heard the creak of your door open, you held your breath. You felt the inside of your stomach fall and the anxiety crawl up.

Once you looked up from your keyboard, you saw Mat already staring at you.

His cheeks were rosy, lips parted ever so slightly as he heavily breathed, and his forehead glistened with sweat. He held the water bottle in his hands as he stared through you. The way he looked at you was unnerving, and you wish you were able to read his mind.

“I love you, Y/N.”

His voice held conviction as he refocused his gaze to look at you instead of through you.

Slowly, you closed your laptop as Mat walked toward you. He placed the water bottle on the table and looked down at your doe eyed, questioning gaze, “I love you, but I need to know what’s wrong.”

“What––“

“I know you feel it too,” the determination and confidence behind his voice fell, “It’s been a few months and I can’t––we can’t––this?” his voice cracked, “We need to figure it out.”

You sniffled and started to nervously pick at a loose piece of skin by your thumb. Your eyes fell to your lap, not wanting to see the utter heartbreak in his eyes, “Let’s––Yeah. Let’s talk, okay.”

Mat crouched down in front of you, and took one of your fidgety hands in his, “Hey,” he used his other hand to tilt your chin up to look at him, “It’s just me…The guy who accidentally shattered your car window junior year when shooting a puck because I wanted to impress you,” he let out a sad chuckle, “Just…Me.”

You sucked in a deep breath, vigorously nodding your head, in hopes to delay your tears, “I know––And I––That’s what makes this so…” You let out a hiccup and squeezed your eyes shut just as hard as Mat squeezed your hand in reassurance, “Hard.”

Before a sob wracked through your chest, Mat was fast to stand up and pull you up with him, wrapping his arms around you. You fell into his chest and he held you close, running a soothing hand up and down your spine. He whispered that everything would be alright, but your arms only tightened around his neck as your sobs increased with his careful words.

After a few moments when your cries slowly started to calm down, Mat slightly leaned back, but made sure to keep his arms securely wrapped around you. He lazily traced patterns with his thumb on your lower back, which caused you to look up at him.

With all your heart, you wished you didn’t look into his eyes. Because seeing his red eyes and heart-rending smile caused you more pain than the last seven months.

He brought a hand up to your face, wiping the tears from under your eyes with his thumb, “There’s my pretty girl,” he sniffled and failed at forcing a smile, “So pretty.”

You felt your bottom lip tremble, another wave of fresh tears waiting to be seen. And when Mat loosened his grasp around your waist, you looked up at him in panic. You didn’t want to be separated from him, but he shushed you, and wrapped an arm around your shoulder to keep you close as he guided you over to the couch.

Much like earlier in the day, the two of you sat on the couch together. But instead of laying together on the couch, he sat next to you.

With your thighs touching, Mat grasped your hand in his, “Talk to me,” his grip was so tight, it felt like he was afraid you would slip away right in front of him, “Please.”

You nodded your head again, but no words came out.

How were you supposed to start off this kind of conversation?

Mat squeezed your hand in reassurance, and before you began to overthink about the best way to phrase your feelings, you said the first thing that came to mind.

“I feel anxious,” you let out a shaky breath.

Mat slowly nodded, squeezing your hand again as a silent way to encourage you to continue.

And with a deep breath, you shut your eyes tight, “I feel anxious and stuck––Almost like––I feel like I have no control over anything and it––I think––I need, uh, a change.”

Your words strung together in one rushed out sentence. And as your rambling continued on, your words grew softer and softer until your voice barely carried above a whisper. But the last word––change––echoed loudly in the room. The word was deafeningly loud, and Mat didn’t miss a beat.

“Change…”

The one syllable word sounded foreign coming from his lips. He repeated the word for a second time to make sure he heard you right.

Change.

In a sense, change was ever present in your relationship. There was change when you and Mat first grew out of being friends to more…Change when Mat left for Seattle to play hockey…and change again when Mat got drafted by the Islanders.

Change was almost a constant in your relationship; but the change was always prompted from Mat’s end. There had never been any expressed desire for change on your side.

“What do you want a change from?” Mat’s tone was daring, almost as if he wanted you to make his worst nightmare a reality.

“I––There’s this whole––“

“What,” he didn’t mask the viciousness in his voice, “do you want a change from.”

His voice was demanding, and not at all like the sweet sound that comforted you moments ago. You knew him well enough to know he was growing irritated at you, and you knew it would only get worse.

“I got into a masters program––in D.C.,” you rushed out, and in hindsight, it probably wasn’t the best response to reassure his insecurities, but you needed to get that information out there, “And it’s––it sounds so great, Mat. Like really great, and––“

He removed his hand from yours in a swift motion, as if he touched fire, “You’re leaving?”

“That’s not–––“

“Why is this the first time I’m hearing about this?” His eyes shined with hurt and disappointment, but most of all, you could hear the distrust behind his voice, “D.C.?”

You sighed, “I never seriously considered it until last month.”

Mat closed his eyes, no doubt in frustration that you didn’t confide your feelings in him earlier, “You’ve been feeling like you need a change for the past month?” Your silence caused him to flare his nostrils, and edged him on to ask another question, “Since when––Why––How long have you felt this way?”

You gulped, averting your eyes to look at his knees, “I don’t want anything between us to change, Mat,” you spoke carefully, “I was thinking––“

“How long?”

“May.”

You screwed your eyes tight to the point where you felt a stunning sensation in your forehead. You couldn’t bring yourself to look in his eyes, that no doubt would be filled to the brim with pain. And you avoided his stare that bored you for as long as you could.

But when you felt the couch cushion next to you feel lighter, you snapped your eyes open and up to look at Mat.

Mat backed away from the couch, and there was nothing you could have done to prepare yourself for the look of betrayal in his eyes, “May?” Gnawing at your bottom lip, you nodded. He ran a hand through his hair and shook his head in disbelief, “How could you not tell me––Christ, seven months?” Y/N…” his voice cracked as he said your name.

It killed you to see his jaw clenched and eyes rimmed with redness; and seeing his eyes overflow with heartbreak caused you to shoot up from your seat to comfort him. But what killed you even more was how he flinched away from your touch. Nothing in the world could prepare you for that sting.

All you wanted was to comfort him.

“Mat––“

He inhaled a deep breath and sniffled, “Please, don’t…” he brought both hands up to face, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his palms, “You want to leave?”

He couldn’t even look at you.

Unfair to you, his question held two sides. He was asking for clarification about wanting to leave New York, but also asking if you wanted to leave him. To Mat, leaving New York meant leaving him.

Your arms hung limp at your sides, mouth wide open in shock. You understood his confusion about wanting to leave New York because you had never mentioned it before. But your despair quickly turned into irritation as he verbalized his doubt of your love for him.

“You know I’d never leave you,” you said with a deep breath, trying your best to keep your anger at bay.

He ripped his hands away from his face, “Do I?” He sent you a glare that had you stumbling back, “Because we had this whole plan for us. And now you don't want that with me.”

“I still want that with you!” You threw your hands up in the air in exasperation, “Grad school goes faster than undergrad. We’ve done long distance before, and my job said they could transfer me––“

“You already have a job here!” Mat raised his voice, “There are places to go to grad school here! You have a place here! You have friends here––“

You raised your voice over his, “That’s not the point, please just––“

“You have me here!” His voice cracked, “We had a plan––“

“Plans change!”

Mat had his mouth open, ready to shout over you more, but once your ambiguous statement traveled from the confines of your thoughts and slipped out of your lips, he had no response. You could feel the anger radiating off him as the ringing in your ears grew louder…and louder…and louder…

“Plans don’t just change like that,” he venomously spat out. His words hit you like icicles, cold and sharp before his tone momentarily softened, “I had my life built around you…We––I wanted to marry you. Start a family with you.”

He spoke as if all of those desires he had with you were now a far off fantasy.

You pinched the bridge of your nose to stop a new wave of tears from falling. But these tears weren’t of fear for his reaction to your thoughts about change, he made those feelings loud and clear.

These were tears of mourning.

“Mat,” you spoke his name with a strained voice, “Let’s talk about this rationally––“

He ran a hand through his and narrowed his eyes at you, “Don’t…” he raised his forearm to wipe more tears away from his face, “I can’t believe––I really thought we had it all from the beginning. But who would have actually thought two teenagers would make it this far?”

He let out a soft, maniacal chuckle that made you more nauseous than any amount of anxiety.

“We were just children back then,” he pinched the bridge of his nose, “What did we know about life.”

His anger morphed into a cynical tone that sent shivers down your spine. It frightened you when he let out that small laugh, one that was usually saved for comical moments between the two of you.

“But here we are now,” he let out another self-deprecating laugh, “Time’s a funny thing…It seemed like nothing back then––It felt as if we had the rest of our lives together.”

As much as you didn’t want to hear Mat break down everything about your relationship, you knew he was spiraling, and you wanted to help him. Because despite what he may think, you still loved him.

Carefully, you tiptoed forward as Mat continued on with his rambling about how idiotic he was as a kid to think that this would last forever. With each step forward, your heart shattered into the tiniest of shards as Mat portrayed your relationship as childish with no chance of reconciliation.

“You just took my love,” his voice decreased in volume and cynicism, and was replaced with a tone that ripped your heart out of your chest. He pointed an accusatory finger at you that made you stop in your tracks, “You took my love––you took it and have no remorse whatsoever––“

You shook your head and picked up the pace of your walking to reach him, “I still love you, Mat. That will never change.”

He stared down at you, and for a moment, you saw the Mat you fell in love with. You saw the bright-eyed eighteen-year-old boy who took his time in teaching you how to shoot a perfect slapshot in his driveway. He looked like he was on the verge of forgiveness, but once you slightly ghosted your fingers against his hand, he snapped out of whatever trance he fell under.

“I don’t know how to love anyone else,” his shoulders slumped forward as he bit his bottom lip.

Without caring that he pulled his hand away from yours seconds ago, you swiftly took his hand in his and gripped it as if you were hanging off a cliff and he was your only lifeline. You didn’t know if it was a moment of bravery, or a moment of desperation. Because there was a nagging thought in the back of your mind that screamed about how this could be the last time you touched him.

“You don’t have to love anyone else,” you pleaded with him, your voice catching in your throat as tears welled up in your eyes, “I don’t want you to love anyone else.”

“Time’s a funny thing,” Mat let out a humorous chuckle, not believing that the two of you found yourself desperately clinging onto the past.

When he finally made eye contact with you, he slightly tilted his head as a single tear rolled down his cheek. Even when he was crying, his dark eyes still captivated you like no one else had. And the longer you stared into his longing eyes, they were filled with one emotion you weren’t familiar with; regret.

“Mat,” you whispered his name cautiously, petrified of what his next move was, “We can work through this…”

He slowly shook his head, causing your heart to plummet, “May…From what I’ve gathered, you hadn’t applied to grad schools then––Didn’t have an excuse for change,” he stalled back more of his tears, “But you wanted a change. You still want that change.”

“I want a change of scenery,” you tried your hardest to make him understand your feelings, “Not a change from you.”

“The only thing back then you could’ve wanted a change from was me,” it was the first time his voice didn’t falter. He was confident in his theory that you didn’t want him anymore.

You squeezed his hand, “Are you even listening to yourself––“

“You’re the love of my life,” his voice was full of pain, and when he softly smiled, it didn’t reach his eyes. With one hand still clutching onto yours, he brought his other hand up––a trembling hand––and tucked a piece of stray hair behind your ear, “I just wish I was yours.”

With a shakey inhale, and one last strong sniffle to conceal his sobs, Mat pressed a firm kiss to your forehead. And when released your hand one last time, he escaped out the door.

You had felt many sensations throughout the past seven months: drowning, feeling weighed down, and suffocation. But what you felt right now, the devastation that encased your whole body, was far worse than any of those emotions.

Because now, it felt as if you were falling.

Mat, your only lifeline, let go of your hand.

He knew he held the power to pull you up and save you, but he decided to let you go. When he released your grip, it felt as if he was releasing it finger by finger, desperately wanting to hold onto what you both had; wanting to hold onto the life both of you had created around one another. But in the end, it didn’t survive.

And as he released your hand, you fell.

You fell over the edge, stomach performing backflips as the sensation became worse with each passing second. The sensation of falling was never ending, as if you were falling down the rabbit hole to Wonderland; terrified of what waited for you at the bottom.

The December air felt frigid. The December air made one seek comfort in hot chocolate, or another menial item, because winter wasn’t strong enough to provide comfort. The December air felt nothing like the spring air that offered you solace without asking for anything in return.

Oh, how you wished to smell that spring air once more.

#mat barzal #mathew barzal #mat barzal imagine #mathew barzal imagine #mat barzal fic #mat barzal oneshot #mat barzal writing #mathew barzal fic #mathew barzal oneshot #mat barzal angst #mathew barzal writing #mathew barzal angst #nhl imahine #nhl writing #mat barzal new york islanders #mathew barzal new york islanders

[dyketubbo]

yknow . people on twt claiming ran n jackie are like cc!beeduo is concerning not just bc. theyre wrong. but also bc that implies any characters played by the ccs are equal to the ccs which not only becomes concerning because it heavily blurs the line between c!beeduo (married and have a child) and cc!beeduo (friends that joke around), but also has like. very unfortunate implications about. how these people manage to engage with the dream smp and similar things by the creators, as well as roleplay content in general?

because see, the fact is is that some characters are more like the ccs than others, and that yes, shipping can be fucked up if the ccs dont consent, because the characters started off based after the ccs relationships and some still keep this aspect (techno and phil for example have a similar dynamic in and out of character), while many others.. dont. they actively play into different dynamics, ones that before certain developments would look kind of fucked up (c!tubbo and c!ranboo have a distinctly different relationship than the ccs, as do c!karlnapity vs the ccs). theres a difference between putting two or more characters with an established purely platonic relationship in a relationship that isnt friendship, and acknowledging that two or more characters are canonically established to be something other than just friends. yes dsmp being the way it is makes this line something that cannot be treaded because of how the ccs traits and personalities can shine through their characters, however.

that is purely because (most of) the characters are actively inspired by the ccs in some way and often share names. otherwise, the dream smp is just a normal roleplay. series connected to it like tftsmp are completely roleplay and very rarely have characters directly inspired by the people playing them. karl, connor, and glatt are the only characters who are from the dream smp storyline. all other characters are simply connected to the world, but may not even be in the same timeline. they are intentionally played to have different personalities, names, stories, and usually appearances differ as well, with them only referencing the dsmp characters/ccs, even their voices are often different! and the thing is, itd be ridiculous to say "these characters are basically just like the ccs" because, well.... ranbob isnt dream, yeah? helga isnt quackity, porkius isnt techno, laggius isnt fundy, geneviene isnt niki, crops isnt corpse husband, so. ran isnt ranboo, and jackie isnt tubbo. simple really.

yes, please do keep creator boundaries in mind when interacting with characters from the dream smp, but when it comes to stuff like tftsmp, thats just.. normal roleplay. it only comes off as concerning to act as if theyre Just Like The CCs, especially, yknow, considering the fact that the episode was about murder? jackies skin is tubbos cogchamp skin and rans name is from ranboo and both of them are voiced by beeduo but.. thats where the similarities end. they have different personalities, jackie flirts with ran and actively shows an attachment to him, ran is, much more aloof than ranboo is, theyre from a completely different time and setting, etc etc. tubbo and ranboo have expressed that the shipping boundary is about irl shipping- and that fictional content is okay as long as it doesnt go too far.

and well.. it concerns me that a simple kiss is enough to be considered Too Far? even pushing aside the general discussion about boundaries, theres one concern in particular that pops out to me. and thats the "theyre minors, so shipping them is wrong" argument. i have many many complicated feelings about this argument, but what i dont like about it is the implication that minors cant be in relationships. theres a difference between putting minors in sexual content, especially young ones (of which is not okay because minors cant consent) and. having two teenagers (one of which is 18 and the other turning 18 soon instory- and again, another reminder that ran and jackie arent beeduo) kiss briefly and not going any further after one flirts with the other throughout the fic and the other starts realizing they care and reciprocate.

queer minors deserve to have representation. queer minors deserve to be acknowledged. the relationship in the fic may be romantic leaning, but is also free to see as queerplatonic, its complicated and not even the main plot of the story, just the plotline that helps get the story to its climax. its a narrative device, which is what relationships in fictional media should be. the point isnt just. shipping two minors (which isnt inherently bad unless theyre either like. little kids, framed in a sexual way when the og content isnt like that, or sends some uncomfortable message in any other way), but it doesnt. really matter that its happening.

and see, its a fictional story inspired by fictional characters from a public roleplay thats vaguely connected to some other public roleplay, and.. people are acting as if its directly connected to two of the people behind the roleplay that the other roleplay is loosely connected to that the characters that the story is inspired by are from is just so. weird because even explaining how this connects to the actors outside of just "theyre the actors" is a goddamn mouthful that cant be as easily simplified into "romantic shipfic of the actors" because it just isnt.

overall its just. truly baffling that people who are fans of a roleplay where the bigass abuse storyline is played by Dream Was Taken Him Goddamn Self as the abuser cant wrap it around their heads that giving more life to practical background characters is in fact Not equal to shipping the ccs. twitter is a hellhole full of brainrot ig

#long post #discourse #negative #abuse ment #rpf ment #knifetrick #mask mews #sorry tak to bring discourse here but twitters character limit is frustrating and i need to Talk #a lot of this is probably disjointed and doesnt make that much sense but thats bc i. didnt feel like filtering my thoughts lol #this is so much. whoops #twitter frustrates me ok

[mrs-gucci]

A Different Kind of Urgent {Charlie Barber x Reader}

author’s notes: hellooooo! my penpal friend, a fellow adam driver rat, sent me a print of a charlie picture (that I’d seen a gajillion times before, mind you) and for some reason, I thirsted hard. so, naturally, I wrote a fic inspired by the picture. the reader in this story is a college professor, but it doesn’t really contribute to any ‘essential’ parts of the story (aka the smutty parts). it’s just her job lol

warnings: smut. some fluff. masturbation. semi-public smut. the sending of nudes (well, lingerie pics, to be specific). charlie’s dad outfits™️. cigarette smoking during sex. uhh tennis shoe kink??

(possible) tw’s: semi-public sex. semi-public masturbation. tobacco use (as is canon for Charlie’s character). implied age gap (everyone’s over 21, no more than 10 years).

You’re in the middle of class when Charlie texts you. Your phone buzzes and buzzes on your desk so much so that you have to stop your lecture for a few seconds, worried that something urgent has happened.

Well, something did happen, and it was pretty urgent, but not exactly in the way you’d expected.

-Charlie: I know you’re teaching class right now kid.- -Charlie: But I need you.- -Charlie: Right now.-

A shiver runs down your spine as you read his words on the screen.

-Y/N: I’ve got like 45 more minutes of lecture, baby, I can’t.-

He growls under his breath, cock straining in his tan khakis.

-Charlie: Fuck.- -Charlie: Can you send me a picture? Just need to see your pretty body, kid.-

-Y/N: Say please, Charlie.-

Charlie groans in sexual frustration, hips bucking up in his desk chair.

-Charlie: Jesus fucking christ, fucking brat. PLEASE! PLEASE send me a picture!-

You smirk, picking out one of the lingerie photos you’d taken when you were home alone one night. You’ve been waiting for the right time to whip them out and...well, this seems like the right time.

-Y/N: Attachment 1 image- -Y/N: Knock yourself out. Take a picture when you’re done, and I’ll be over as soon as class is finished.-

His shaky hands scramble to type in his phone passcode and click on your message, a strangled moan leaving his lips at the picture you chose. He’d never seen this one before, never seen this set of lingerie before.  He unbuckles his belt and almost tears the button clean off his khakis as he pulls his cock out, tip already red and drooling with precum. 

Before he starts anything, he quickly runs over to his office door, locking it to keep anyone from walking in. 

His navy cardigan suddenly feels almost suffocating and he sheds it without hesitation, unbuttoning his dress shirt and parting it, revealing his undershirt. 

Wait...you want a picture. Fuck.

An idea comes to him and he whimpers, equal parts aroused and nervous about giving it a try. God he hasn’t touched himself since the divorce proceedings, just needing to blow off some fucking steam, but you’ve reignited his sexual passion, overwhelmingly so, and seemingly even more than before. Maybe even more than ever, if he’s honest with himself.

He feels like a teenager again, both completely smitten with you while at the same time incredibly horny for you.

Charlie stands up on shaky legs and shoves all the paperwork off his desk, clearing a roomy spot right in the center. He bites his lip as he props his phone up on his desktop computer with the picture of you pulled up. Jerking off with just his hand wouldn’t be enough this time around, a small part of him just knew it. He needs to fuck you, fuck something.

He positions his hands around the edge of his desk, leaving his thumbs right at the top, putting them in a wonky sort of ‘o’ shape. He adjusts so that the sharp edge is pressing against his palm before experimentally thrusting his length forward into the hole he’s created with his thumbs, immediately groaning in pleasure. 

“O-Oh, kid.”

He whispers, picking up a slow thrusting rhythm, eyes squeezed shut as he imagines your pussy.

“Such a good little pussy, my good f-fucking girl.” A line of sweat has already begun forming on his forehead as he moves a bit quicker, growling wildly with each thrust. He’s embarrassingly close already. “God, j-jesus fucking christ, gonna make me cum so f-fast, kid. I’m already s-so close, damnit.”

His hips grow desperate, bucking erratically into his grip. The drag of his cock against the faux wood surface feels absolutely incredible, and he barely even hears the desk begin to groan and shift against the floor of his office, too consumed with his impending orgasm.

“Yeah, you ready? Y-You fuckin’ ready for my big fat--fuck!--load in this pretty little--shit!--k-kitty?”

Just hearing him say the word aloud, his nickname for your cunt, has him cumming within moments. His vision blacks out for a second as his hips rut forward, a seemingly continuous stream of warm white cum painting his desktop. 

“Ahhhhh, fuuuuuuuck.”

He has to bury his mouth into his shirt arm to hide the cries that come from him, eyebrows knitted at the center of his forehead. His breathing is heavy as he begins coming down from his high, eyes flitting open and looking down at the mess he’d made. 

His load had gone across the entire width of his desk, and his eyes widened for a moment as his brain somehow comprehended to grab his phone and take a picture of the spread. 

-Charlie: Attachment 1 image- -Charlie: Come straight to my office when you get to the theater.-

You take a quick peek at the message from Charlie as your students pull out their workbooks, jaw dropping when you open the picture full-screen. Holy shit, he really did need it.

-Y/N: You sure you still have enough to fill me up with when I get there?-

-Charlie: I always have enough for you, kid. Gonna have it leaking out of you when you leave.-

You chew your lip, thinking of a quick yet clever response.

-Y/N: Is that a promise?-

He groans under his breath, chuckling lightly with a small smile.

-Charlie: Absolutely. Can’t wait to see you, kid.-

-Y/N: I’m excited too. I’ll be there in 20.-

The twenty minutes it takes for you to finish class and walk over to Exit Ghost feels like some of the longest in Charlie’s life, knee bouncing impatiently and eyes glued to the door. He twirls the Marlboro package in his hand, the clock behind his desk tick-tick-ticking the seconds away. 

Finally, a soft knock comes and, just in case it isn’t you, he stuffs the carton into his pocket. “Come in.”

Your head pokes through the door and you smile at him as you walk in, shutting and locking the door behind you. You immediately notice his outfit, specifically his shoes, which are propped up on his desk. 

He knows that you like how he dresses, especially when he dresses very dad-like. And those sneakers he has, the white ones with the blue lines on them...god, they drive you absolutely crazy and you have no idea why.

Your bags are quickly shoved off your shoulder by the impatient director, pulling you into his body as his lips attack yours fiercely. He notices the way you’re eyeing his outfit, and it’s then that he realizes what shoes he has on, the pair that you like so much. Oh, he could use that.

His grip on the meat of your hips tightens increasingly as the kiss heats up, lips eventually moving down to your neck. 

“Well, hello to you too.”

You say, laughing softly.

“Mmmm,” He hums onto your skin, lips littering kisses and small nibbles everywhere they can reach. “I missed you, kiddo, feels like forever since we’ve had time for something like this.”

Charlie’s large body presses you up against the door, hands eager to rid you of your pants. He quickly yanks them down to your ankles, fingers finding your clothed folds.

“I’ve got a staff meeting at two, baby. We h-have to be kind of quick...sorry.” You breathe, hand wrapping in his hair, tugging at the silky raven locks.

A small and slightly disappointed sigh leaves his lips, but nothing more is said on the matter. His movements do become a bit more rushed, though, digits dipping beneath the fabric to shove up into your entrance. 

Your legs spread instinctively, knees shaking as he finger-fucks you, thick digits scissoring inside you to prepare for his girth. Meanwhile, you try to focus on getting his belt and pants undone, but it’s awfully hard when his fingers feel so damn good.

He pulls away suddenly, sucking the juices off his fingers as his hungry eyes roam your figure. The carton of cigarettes presses against his thigh and he smirks, pulling his digits out with a lewd pop.

Charlie suddenly pulls you off the door, putting himself in your spot instead. He smirks, fingers running under your chin, keeping your head tilted up at him.

“Will you go open the window for me please, beautiful?”

You nod, rushing over to push it open, then come back over to stand in front of him.

“Good girl. Thank you.”

His pointer finger twirls and points to the floor while the other hand grabs the pack and lighter from his pants pocket.

“Now, turn around and bend over right here, hold your ankles or feet, or whatever.”

As you position yourself accordingly, he leans back against the door, legs spread and sneaker-clad feet planted on either side of you, right within your line of vision. He’s almost fully hard again already as he moves to free his cock from its khaki confines, undoing his pants just enough to have it out. 

Again, his cardigan feels suffocatingly hot, so he quickly pulls it off and tosses it away. He rolls the sleeves up on his button-up, a sight that makes your insides clench.

He jams a cigarette between his teeth, jaw clenching when he looks up and realizes that you’re bent over for him, in just the way he asked. Your glistening pussy’s on full display as you wiggle your ass a bit, his cock bobbing and twitching with excitement. 

“Oh kid, you’re dripping.” Charlie whispers, almost to himself, hand kneading one of the globes of your ass.

You chuckle softly. “Hey, baby? As much as I love hearing and feeling you, my legs are getting kinda tired.”

Laughing, Charlie says a quick ‘sorry’ before holding and pulling your hips back, lining himself up with your soaked entrance. He pulls you back some more, impaling you on his cock, head falling back against the door as he does so. 

His hands shakily ignited the small flame on his lighter, bringing it up until the tip of the cigarette turned orange before flipping the cap back on and shoving it back in his pocket. He takes a long drag, groaning on the exhale. 

He keeps one hand on your hip while the other spreads out on your lower back, guiding you back and forth over his shaft slowly, gently.

“Thaaat’s it, just like this, kid.”

Your eyes roll into the back of your head, the impossibly deep angle created with this new position has it feeling like he’s reaching into your guts. Plus, with the natural up-curve of his cock, he’s brushing all the right spots inside you.

“C-Charlie…”

The familiar and comforting scent of Charlie’s cigarettes fills your nostrils, a haze of smoke surrounds your joined bodies. He continues to move you up and down on his length, buttocks clenching as his hips naturally rock forward, burying himself to the hilt each time you sink down.

“God...jesus christ...love this little pussy of yours, kid.” He breathes through his gritted teeth. “Taking me so nicely, always wrapped around me so goddamn tight.”

You quickly begin moving yourself up and down his stiff rod, bouncing as fast as you can manage. The sweet burn in your thighs only grows more prominent with each passing second, but you don’t care, too consumed in pleasure.

“Mmmmmyyyeah, baby, all for you.”

His hand comes down on your ass, giving it a firm smack before taking another quick drag, exhaling through his nose.

“That’s f-fucking right, all mine. You love being a little slut for this cock, huh? I know you do, you love when I bring you in my office and fuck your pretty cunt in the middle of the goddamn work day, can’t even wait until I get home, this f-filthy slut cunt needs to be split open and stuffed nice and full. Can’t go one fucking day without my cum fucked in you, always needs to be filled up and leaking, hm?”

Charlie was never able to do stuff like this or talk to Nicole like this. She was pretty vanilla when it came to sex, just like to be fucked quietly in bed. He called her a ‘slut’ once and she almost cried, lecturing him for half an hour afterwards on how disrespectful it was.

But now, he gets to explore everything he hasn’t gotten the chance to with you. You love it all, love the way he talks filth in your ear, calls you naughty names. You love getting fucked in all sorts of places, which at first made him a little nervous, cheeks and the tips of his ears bright red when you asked him to fuck you in your classroom or finger you under your dress on the subway. But, after almost a year and a half together, you can safely say that he’s a full-on exhibitionist deviant.

Your walls clamp down around him, eyes still squeezed shut as you feel his hips begin to thrust forward. Soon, he holds you almost completely still, moving his hips as fast as he can. His cigarette is almost ashes at this point, and he kicks himself for not thinking of a good disposal plan beforehand.

“Oh baby, oh baby...f-fuck!” You whine, hips squirming and gyrating as your impending orgasm grows closer. “Y-Yeah, I love it, love everything you do to me. Wanna take every s-single fucking drop of your cum, Charlie, want it inside me, want it dripping down my thighs.”

He almost loses his mind over your comments, drilling into you at an impossibly hard and fast rate, the lewd slapping squelching sound of your hips colliding overwhelmingly prominent in the space around you. 

“You’ll go back to work with so much cum shoved into you, make you sit through your stupid fucking meeting with my cum dripping out of you. B-Better hope no one notices, huh? Better hope your boss doesn’t find out what a good little cockslut you are, how much you love having a pussy-full of your boyfriends f-fucking cum.”

A few muted cries leave your lips as he pounds you harder, his own words spurring him on. He can feel your walls pulsing around him, a sure-fire sign that you’re about to cum. 

“C-Charlie! Charlie, I...I’m close.”

“K-Know you are, kid, I know you are. You’re doing so f-fucking well for me, Y/N, squeezing my big cock like a fuckin champ.” Charlie growls, quickly tossing his spent cigarette in a coffee mug on a nearby table. “And now you’re gonna rub your little clit and cum for me like I know you want to. C’mon, kid, wanna feel you come undone around me.”

You quickly begin rubbing your clit and, despite the odd angle, it brings you right up to the edge. You just need something, just a little something, to push you over the edge. Your eyes flutter open to look up at him, but then, you’re met with the sight of his sneakers.

“Goddamnit!” You’re cumming almost instantly, flooding his shaft with your release. “Yes! Oh god, yeah, c-cumming for you baby!”

His hips keep pumping, taking you right through your climax before abruptly coming to a halt when they’re buried as deep inside you as they can possibly be. His eyes go wide before squeezing shut, a guttural groan ripping through his chest as he pumps and shoves his thick creamy load into you.

“T-Take it, f-filthy whore!” He groans, rutting his hips the whole way through, making sure every drop is put inside you.

Once he’s finished, having ridden out his high to its fullest, he tucks himself back into his pants before helping you stand back up. He holds you close, looking down at you with a bright, genuine smile. 

“You’re amazing, incredible...just so perfect.” He kisses all over your face before landing on your lips.

Your cheeks heat up at his compliments, hands weaving through his hair as the kiss deepens. 

Suddenly, someone knocks on your office door, jiggling the doorknob.

“Charlie?”

His eyes fly open and he pulls away. Shit.

“Yeah, I’m h-here, just give me a minute!”

You quickly pull your pants up and jump under his desk to hide just as he opens the door, running a hand through his hair. 

He talks to the person on the other side of the door in a rushed voice, answering their multitude of questions before quickly shutting the door, sighing as you crawl out from under the desk. 

“At least we both got to cum, unlike last time.” You walk up and put your hands on his pecs, rubbing them over the fabric. “I gotta get going though, baby. I wanna grab lunch from the deli before my staff meeting.”

Charlie nods, dipping his head down to kiss you one last time, nuzzling his large nose against yours. 

“Come over tonight, though? Nicole’s in town and she’s got Henry, so we’ll have the house to ourselves. I feel like we haven’t spent any quality time together lately.”

Nodding, you smile. “I would love to come over. I’ll text you when I get home.”

“Great.” He smiles, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll see you later, kid. Have a good meeting.”

You laugh as you grab your bag and head out, turning back to wave and flash him a soft smile.

“See you tonight.”

#adamdriverwriter #adcu #adcu writer #adam driver #adam driver character #adam driver smut #adam driver fluff #charlie barber #marriage story #charlie barber x reader #charlie barber x reader smut #charlie barber x you #charlie barber smut #charlie barber fluff #charlie barber x female reader #tw: tobacco #tw: tobacco use #tw: implied age gap #tw: age difference #cw: implied age gap #tw: public sex #tw: semi public sex #cw: public sex #cw: semi-public sex

[awsugar]

I think a large part of the “fuck it” thing was how rapidly everyone’s life shifted and Gerard refocusing his priorities for the first time since 2001. I’m not sure when they (he) came up with the concept, but dead kids and parents mourning isn’t something many people can even consider but especially not new parents. If that was his last big concept then he decided it wasn’t what he wanted, he may have decided the band in general wasn’t where his energy had to be anymore. The Kevin Smith interview was when he played that cute as fuck song he wrote about Bandit and it was so different to anything he ever shared, even scarecrow was dark, that I feel like the stuff he took inspiration from had changed entirely too. Also, he very possibly just wasn’t vibing with the death and sickness and loss that MCR had become associated with. I can’t imagine the emotional toll it would take to be accused of encouraging teenagers to do these awful things, while being overworked and exhausted, while having these new personal responsibilities. They resorted to letting Glee do Sing just to spread the song as far as possible and then said it was a song for the fans which high-key beaks my heart. HA being him in a suit with Britpop-ish songs right after MCR ended kind of cements for me that he was determined to separate himself entirely and form something newer, lighter, more lively. He was a harsh bitch for dumping them via open letter, though. MCR x group therapy collab when.

i agree that the paper kingdom sounded extremely dark obviously. and definitely had to be hard for all of them who were parents of young children, except mikey. but like it didn't HAVE to be like that. imo. i mean danger days, like you said scarecrow is dark, but honestly i don't think of dd as a depressing/dark record. its really bright and lively and a celebration to me, for most of it. so like. and im just gonna be like stream of consciousness here sorry. but yea i wonder why they would go back to something so dark, when they knew what touring tbp and playing it every night did to them. and i was saying to a friend recently, i wonder how much the backlash and negative reaction to tbp had an impact on what they ended up doing with dd. and then now, i wonder if gerard thought he had to go back to a place of darkness and depression post-dd bc it wasn't as much of a commercial success or whatever, the way that tbp was. i kind of never thought that that mattered to them that much, but now im wondering..bc like even at the shrine, the way that most of the crowd further back than the front like 4 or 5 rows was mostly silent for dd songs...like i wonder if that mattered to them and they wanted to like appeal to the fans that were fans of the first 3 albums again. much to think about.

but like. i don't believe that the paper kingdom was the only concept that gerard had in his mind at the time, or that he could have come up with. and on that note, i don't think it had to be a concept album at all? i mean thats what they were known for at that point i guess, even though gerard until like 2020 insisted that dd wasn't a concept album. lol. but like cw, as far as we know, wasn't a concept album. but THAT also raises another question, like was it;'s lack of concept part of why it was scrapped? more questions we don't have an answer to..but yea like. i just don't believe that the paper kingdom concept was their only option. but i have had an assumption for a while that is like. PART of the breakup (which i think is extremely multifaceted and like probably a million things contributed to it) was that gerard felt disconnected from the message that the band set out with intially to change the world with. he said the band saved him, and maybe he didn't need that anymore? but he's also said that the breakup time period was like his worst depression since he DID start the band. so like...idk there's a disconnect for me there. but "i stopped bleeding three years ago while you kept screaming for revolution' from tomorrow's money is totally about that. him feeling disconnected from what the fans expected out of mcr. which ties into like what i already said, did he try to reconnect with that old part of himself to please the fans, and it was like a detrimental decision for his mental health, which then led to the breakup? idk!!!! im just thinking. and thinking hard.

all of that was me mostly responding to the paper kingdom stuff you said but now that i read the rest of the ask i feel like we kind of came to similar conclusions.

i do think they need group therapy tho. like im almost convinced that they had to have at least a few heavy conversations in order to do the band again. i mean how do you write THOSE songs about each other and then be like *twirls hair* lets go on tour...

#anonymous #asks #long post #im gonna make queue bend and break

[thefirsttree]

A personal update + my next game

OK, time to do this. I’ve been meaning to do a big DAVID WEHLE™ update for a while now and explain why I haven’t released a new game yet, but you know how life gets in the way. Especially when life is a quarantine hellscape, you have three beautiful, amazing, exhausting kids to raise, a spouse’s job you support, a viral YouTube channel that turns your brain to mush, a thousand emails waiting in your inbox since your game is free on the Epic Games Store (with an impressive number of redemptions too! … meaning lots of emails and customer support issues), etc., etc. What also contributes to my lack of updates is because… I just don’t really like posting online. Fascinating correlation, I know!

Don’t worry, this isn’t going to be a venting/ranting blog post (well, maybe a bit), because my life is seriously AMAZING and INSANELY BLESSED and LUCKY. I can’t believe how many dreams keep coming true, so much so that I feel I don’t deserve it and I really pulled the wool over everyone’s eyes… but I did want to at least be honest, because I owe that to myself.

Wow, where do I even begin? Well, how about we start with the reason I’m even a full-time indie game dev now: The First Tree. This small hobby project I worked on at night morphed into this gargantuan beast (or fox) that took over my life the past 5 years. Which is great! I’m living the dream! And yet, I really didn’t expect it to do as well as it did. At its core, my game is a slow-paced, sad walking simulator (ahem, I prefer the term “exploration game,” but you know what I mean) that somehow seemed to launch at the right time to the right audience. It resonated deeply with some of you, and for that I’m eternally grateful. I still get emails almost daily how my game changed their lives in some formative way. I’m beyond honored.

However, with that spotlight came criticism and demands from the ever-present, insatiable internet. I would randomly be surfing the gamedev subreddit trying to decompress, and I would see a comment by some rando saying how much I didn’t deserve my success, and how it was all one huge lucky fluke. And I believed them!

And to add to it, some devs considered me an indie marketing “guru”, which I was uncomfortable with. I worked hard to market my game every week, and after my GDC talk, people assumed marketing was my passion; the reason I got up every morning. Just to clarify… NO, I don’t like marketing, and I hate being the center of attention. I don’t like asking people for money and wishlists. But I did what was necessary because I was passionate about telling stories, and I wanted to give my story a fighting chance to be seen on the crowded pages of Steam.

So now, you’re probably wondering “well then David, why did you make fancy YouTube videos showing off your success? Not very modest if you ask me.” This honestly could be a long blog post all on its own, because my experience of putting myself in the spotlight and becoming a “content creator” is… complicated. It was an unusual step for me, especially since I never even showed my face online (as a game developer) until my GDC talk.

First off, I always wanted to teach and start a YouTube channel. I love video editing, especially since I’ve been doing it longer than making games! It’s a huge passion of mine. And teaching people who didn’t know they could make and finish games was a huge motivator (and it’s been so rewarding already). But the second reason is, I was scared. I was self-employed, and I was riding the success of a “huge lucky fluke” that would probably not happen again. I wanted to make sure I could provide for my amazing family, and give them food and health insurance and security in these tumultuous times. I was turning my lifelong passions and hobbies into a business, and it wasn’t as simple of a mental transition as I thought.

So, I went all in on YouTube and the accompanying online course called Game Dev Unlocked. I spent years editing the scripts and videos, and polishing them to a shine. At first, no one watched my videos, no one was buying… and in the blink of an eye, the YouTube algorithm picked up my main autobiographical video (“How Making Indie Games Changed My Life”), and I started getting 5,000 subscribers a day. Right now, I’m at 150,000 subs, which is still hard for me to believe. I always had a dream of earning 100k subs on YouTube, so I was pretty happy with the whole thing. Sales were OK, but mostly people didn’t want to buy the course. Then the emails came in…

Something you should know about me: I am a textbook “people pleaser,” and if someone asks for my help, I take it very seriously. If someone is mad at me, even if I didn’t do anything wrong, it’s all I can think about, and it ruins my day. So, taking an onslaught of people begging for help and multiplying that by an impossible amount of people for my brain to truly comprehend thanks to the internet… and let’s just say it wasn’t a healthy mix.

I received thousands of emails from people who were begging me for some kind of reassurance that everything would be OK. That their dreams would come true too. And I wanted to help every single one of them. I went from a nobody working on a game for fun to becoming a spokesperson for the indie game dream. I couldn’t even get a shake from the Chick-Fil-A drive-thru without someone recognizing me and asking for game dev advice. And it didn’t stop there… I would get emails from suicidal kids asking for help, teenagers from Afghanistan asking me to get them out of their country, and on one occasion I received an email from a hopeful game developer in a war-torn country who had just experienced a bomb blowing up their neighboring village. His friends were dead, and he was hoping he could finish a game before he died too, and he needed my help. How do you say no to something like that? Didn’t I owe it to everyone because I was lucky with my hit game and I needed to “pay it forward”? (Something people constantly reminded me of)

And then to top it off, after you’ve given everything you’ve got to other people in need… you get hate mail in your inbox. You spend the whole day serving your children and strangers on the internet, then when the kids are finally asleep, you hit the bed to relax and take a look at your phone to decompress, and you randomly come across an angry gamer in your Twitter mentions telling you your game they got for free sucks, and that you took away a potentially great game from them and that your apology isn’t good enough.

Long story short, I went to a mental therapist for the first time in my life. I was broken trying to care for two toddlers and a new baby in a pandemic (which is very, very hard), taking care of my course students who gave me their hard-earned money and demanded results, and the countless people begging for help on the internet. I was this introverted, internet-lurker trying to take on the weight of the world. I was so tired and hurt that no one cared about me and my needs… only what I could do for them.

Quitting my day job and making this hobby my full-time job has stirred up… mixed emotions. This statement may disturb some of you, but I was definitely 100% happier when I had a full-time job and I was working on my game at night. I missed working with the amazing team at The VOID, working on Star Wars… back when the success of my game was this abstract thing I could only daydream about. Mostly, I was making my game for me with no outside expectations to pay the bills or satisfy the ever-demanding internet, and that brought me a lot of joy.

It’s not all doom and gloom though! I’m actually very happy now and in the best shape I’ve been since the pandemic started. I’ve had to confront my weaknesses and personality quirks, but I’m a better person for it (and I’m sure these issues would’ve come out eventually). I hired an awesome community manager for Game Dev Unlocked who is helping SO MUCH with the emails, I can’t even tell you the mental burden it alleviates. I even leased a co-working office to help separate work from my home, and that’s been a huge help too. I’ve decided to work with my old friends from The VOID on a cool, new VR experience. It will take me away from my projects a bit, but I’m ecstatic to work with a great team again (and not manage anything, whew).

These are all things I would’ve never guessed I needed, because I thought I knew myself pretty well… turns out I didn’t.

The reality is: running a business is HARD. Running it solo is even harder. You have to remember, I was burnt out on The First Tree well into the Steam release in 2017, but I kept working on it for 4 more years due to my fears of failing again and not earning enough money for my family.

So, I was wrestling with the age-old concept of commercialism and art. There was this dichotomy of doing whatever I wanted and being true to my vision (what most people assume the indie dev dream is like), and doing only what customers wanted to buy. This is something that has killed me with YouTube… in one specific instance, I was super excited to make the exact video I wanted to make. I loved every part of its creation, and I thought it had a message that would inspire everyone. I lovingly edited it over several weeks, posted it, and excitedly waited for the stats… and it was by far my worst performing video.

This is not a new problem. Even the Sistine Chapel by Michelangelo was a commission forced upon him by the very violent Pope Julius II. My wife and I regularly talk about the fine balance between artistic integrity and commercialism, a problem she is very familiar with as an artist who constantly needs to balance what she wants to make with what the customer wants to hang up in their home.

For The First Tree, I was lucky. It was pretty much what I wanted to make (I had to compromise a lot of things of course), and it turned out millions of people wanted it too. Recently, I thought the safe business decision would be to do it all over again, so I started work on a spiritual successor to The First Tree (an idea that I may revisit one day since I do love the story idea). But that isn’t happening anytime soon. Trust me when I say I am now currently burnt out on animal exploration games.

So that realization left me with a question: what do I do next?

I’ve decided I need to make a game that I want to make, for me. It will be a bit different and I’m almost certain most fans of The First Tree will not love it… but it’s an idea that gets me super excited. It’s an idea that could help me fall in love with game development again.

A few more details: this game will be story-driven, first-person, and will use the Unreal Engine. That means development is gonna be slow going, because I have to learn a whole new tool. The “smart business” decision would be to make something quickly in Unity which I’m already familiar with… but I want to do this for me, and UE5 looks like a lot of fun. I’m also shooting for an early-ish release date so I avoid burn out and I keep the game short: I want to release it in Fall 2022, but knowing game development, it will probably take longer.

With the help of my therapist, I’ve also concluded that I’ve been too accessible on the internet and that my self-worth isn’t determined by the amount of people I try to help online. Of course, I love helping people and seeing them succeed, but I need to step back and focus on my family and myself. I will delete my social media apps on my phone (I will still post big updates occasionally) and stop responding to most emails, tweets, DMs, etc. It’s not that I’m ungrateful… in fact, if I don’t say thank you or at least acknowledge the incredibly nice people who share a sweet message about my game or want to tell me how I inspire them (still hard for me to believe, lol), I feel a ton of guilt… but I need to let that go. Please know I’m extremely grateful to all the fans who follow my work, so even if I don’t thank you directly, I truly mean it: thank you.

I will still post and stream occasionally on YouTube when I want to (and I still do live Q&A’s for my GDU students). The online course sales will help support my family as I work on a potentially risky game idea (and my new job will help alleviate the risk too). I’m gonna try one more marketing experiment and sell a mini-course soon (and add an Unreal section), and after that I’m done working on it. A gigantic thank you to the people who bought my course and are part of the amazing community, it has helped me and my family tremendously, and it’s inspiring seeing the games you make!

I’m a bit worried about the whole thing since this new game idea could flop, which could definitely affect my family. But a sappy, high-school yearbook quote is coming to mind…  I think it applies here: “A ship in harbor is safe—but that is not what ships are built for.”

Thanks for reading,

David

#gamedev #indie games #the first tree

[kirbyofthestars]

the music in deh is very good. i hate everything else about it and am going to complain for a paragraph or so. what is microblogging if you’re not airing a list of grievances every now and then

dear evan hansen is pure glurge on depressives. inspiration porn. what have you. watching it as a “troubled” preteen with all the unglamorous flavours of mental illness that popular media doesn’t like and internalizing its messages was very much was a mistake

in theory it’s about dismantling stigma around mental illness, but the message is undercut by uh. a whole lot of things. its only explicitly mentally ill characters (who Are Children) are straight up horrible people. evan is a manipulative bastard, yadda yadda, that’s the whole plot, and connor. god, connor.

we barely knew ye! dude is constantly vilified and dehumanized by the narrative. he’s the “weird”, “bad”, “scary” mentally ill person as a foil to evan. he’s Too Far Gone. his suicide is the inciting incident. i’d venture to say he’s barely even treated like a person, more like a vague concept that gets a metaphorical Weekend At Bernies treatment by everyone else. he’s whatever the other characters want him to be. for most of the play he exists only as a memory, hallucination, whatever. which is definitely intentional, but that really doesn’t make it good!

the only time he’s not a scapegoat is when he’s a fucking ghost. “if you’re a kid with ‘scary’ symptoms (drug addiction, emotional dysregulation, actively suicidal, etc.), then you’re doomed to be an abusive monster. no one will mourn you. you’re better off dead.” is a REALLY HORRIFYING message to send to impressionable mentally ill teenagers, actually!

bmc is a fun cheesy romp full of dick jokes and evil robots and is somehow accidentally a more thoughtful portrayal of mental illness than deh is. watch that instead

#ableism cw #suicide cw #lorena.txt

[cartoonemotion]

kid cosmic spoilers again cuz im thonkin

i was at first a LEETLE disappointed that the solution to the end of this ep was to punch erodius all apart but actually it makes sense and it kind of reminded me of one of the reasons i could actually feel pretty good about watching wander over yonder and not feel like the message of like. peaceful resolution didnt feel too much like a condescending “you should never fight fire with fire !!! uwu” type thing and instead much more genuine and optimistic

bc i mean the situations were fundamentally different.. the aliens trying to reclaim their stones was actually a misunderstanding and it fit into kid’s arc of coming into his own as a hero, understanding that a lot of the messages he had internalized in an effort to live up to his dream of becoming one were not only detrimental to him but others around him: heroes help, not hurt, so a peaceful resolution where kid and the local heroes work together to help the aliens and prevent the biker in black from ejecting them from the planet pretty much by force conveys the themes of the season and the messages kid learned in his arc well & wraps everything up on that front pretty coherently

but now jo is the focus of season 2, and shes a teenager, so shes older than kid and she has different lessons for life and different conflicts with those around her that she has to work out, and so the threat she’s tasked with handling is a lot different. its not necessarily i dont think the show retracting any of its earlier messages about peaceful resolution or trying to understand one another, bc it still has those beats: mo’s recipe is a big one, you have papa g still being his usual pacifist self and having moments where he advocates for talking things out, you have jo doing what she can to uplift and respect krosh after she beats her, even going so far as to basically invite her to be a member of the community she and the rest of the local heroes are apart of it seems pretty much ? the difference is that unlike the previous season, there’s no real mix up or dispute as to who’s the real bad guy here; erodius is destroying planets, killing people and displacing whole societies, and it seems almost like a force of nature more than a living being (its obviously supposed to take some inspiration from galactus from the marvel comics or unicron from transformers). it cant be reasoned with. its something cosmically big and indifferent to the suffering it inflicts on the little people, who as directly stated in this season, are the ones who matter most

so destroying it makes sense ! the more i think about it the more i kind of like how erodius ties into jo’s arc of becoming more sure of herself as not only a leader but just. a person, as every teenager has to struggle to learn how to be. you can be kind and compassionate and want to extend a helping hand, but you should always be willing to stand up for yourself and others around you who cant, even if it seems impossible. and that in itself can still be a victory, even if there are consequences 

idk. this turned rambly but i just really liked the second season, even if i still prefer the first one more/feel its a tighter story overall, i wanna give s2 credit where its due bc i think it was a great installment and it still had a lot of care and craft put into it :]

#kid cosmic #kid cosmic spoilers #also when jo was taking all the wrong advice to heart and felt like she had to double down #bc it seemed like nobody believed in her when it was rlly she just didnt like. believe in herself. as she was #OOF hard relate. hashtag teenage problems cranked up to 11 i remember being in that like #perpetual circle of being like well it seems i will just have to change everything abt myself to not be a loser. and it going bad #anyways watch kid cosmic