#and i've gone too far in-game to change it now

[noxtivagus]

mhmmm starlit waltz.... sometimes i find my mind just wandering back to that. lil thing i wrote years back. from time to time. i really want to rewrite it soon before 2022 ends ><

[sneezypeasy]

The Lightning Scene, How Azula Targeted Katara (of All People), and the Doylist Reason Why That Matters

Mention Zuko's sacrifice for Katara in Sozin's Comet Part 3 as part of a pro-Zutara talking point, and invariably you'll get a Pavlovian response of:

"But Zuko would have taken the lightning for anyone."

(Not to be confused with the similar-sounding Pavlovan response, which is "Zuko's sacrifice ain't shit compared to a mouth-watering, strawberry-topped meringue dessert"*, which is actually the only valid counter-argument to how the lightning scene is a bona fide Zutara treasure, but I digress.)

Now, I've talked in depth about how the lightning scene is framed far more romantically than it had any right to be, regardless of how you might interpret the subject on paper; this is an argument which I still stand by 100%. That Zuko would have gotten barbecued for anyone, and that he was at the stage of his arc where his royal kebab-ness represented his final act of redemption, doesn't change the fact that the animators/soundtrack artists decided to pull out all the stops with making this scene hit romantic film tropes bingo by the time it played out on screen.

(I mean, we stan.)

There's also a deeper level to this conundrum, a layer which creeps up on you when you're standing in your kitchen at night, the fridge door open in front of you, your hungry, sleep-deprived brain trying to decide on what to grab for a midnight snack, and quite inexcusably you're struck with the question: Okay, Zuko may indeed have taken the lightning for just anyone, but would Azula have shot the lightning at just anyone?

But there's yet a deeper layer to this question, that I don't recall ever seeing anyone discuss (though if somebody has, mea culpa). And that is: would you have written Zuko taking the lightning for anyone else?

Or in other words, who Zuko would have taken the lightning for is the wrong question to be asking; the question we ought to be asking is who Zuko should have taken the lightning for, instead.

Get your pens out, your Doylist hats on, and turn to page 394. It's time to think like an author for a hot minute.

(If you don't know what I mean by Watsonian vs. Doylist analyses, and/or if you need a refresher course, go have a skim of the first section of this 'ere post and then scoot your ass back to this one.)

So. You're the author. You've written almost the entirety of an animated series (look at you!!) and now you're at the climax, which you've decided is going to be an epic, hero-villain showdown. Classic. Unlike previous battles between these two characters, your hero is going to have a significant advantage in this fight - partly due to his own development as a hero at the height of his strength and moral conviction, and partly because your villain has gone through a bit of a Britney Spears 2007 fiasco, and isn't quite at the top of her game here. If things keep going at this pace, your hero is going to win the fight fairly easily - actually, maybe even too easily. That's okay though, you're a talented writer and you know just what will raise the stakes and give the audience a well-timed "oh shit" moment: you're going to have the villain suddenly switch targets and aim for somebody else. The hero will be thrown off his groove, the villain will gain the upper hand, the turns will have indubitably tabled. Villains playing dirty is the number 1 rule in every villain handbook after all, and each of the last two times your hero's braved this sort of fight he's faced an opponent who ended up fighting dishonourably, so you've got a lovely Rule of Three perfectly lined up for the taking. Impeccable. The warm glow of triumph shines upon you, cherubs sing, your English teachers clap and shed tears of pride. (Except for that one teacher you had in year 8 who hated everybody, but she's a right bitch and we're not talking about her today.)

Now here's the thing: your hero is a hero. Maybe he wasn't always a hero, but he certainly is one now. If the villain goes after an innocent third party, there's basically no-one your hero wouldn't sacrifice himself for. He's a hero! Heroes do be like that, it's kind of their thing. The villain could shoot a bolt of lightning at Bildad the Shuhite, and the only thing that'd stop our boy Redeemed Paladin Bravesoul McGee from shielding his foxy ass is the fact that Bildad the Shuhite has the audacity to exist in a totally different show (disgusten.)

But. You're holding the writer's pen. Minus crossover shenanigans you don't have the licensing or time-travel technology to achieve, you have full control over how this scene plays out. You get to decide which character to target to deliver the greatest emotional impact, the juiciest angst, the most powerful cinematic suspense. You get to decide whose life you'll put at risk, to make this scene the most intense spine-chilling heart-stopper it can possibly be.

This is the climax we're talking about, after all - now is not the time to go easy on the drama.

So.

Do you make the villain target just anyone?

Or do you make the villain target someone the hero cares about?

Perhaps, someone he cares about... a lot?

Maybe even, someone he cares about... more than anybody else?

You are the author. You are the God of this universe. You get to choose.

What would deliver the strongest punch?

If you happen to make the inadvisable decision of browsing through these tropes on TV tropes, aside from wasting the rest of your afternoon (you're welcome), you'll find that the examples listed are littered with threatened and dead love interests, and, well, there's a reason for that. For better or worse, romantic love is often portrayed by authors, and perceived by audiences, as a "true" form of love (often even, "the" true form of love). Which is responsible for the other is a chicken/egg situation, one I'm not going to go into for this post - and while I'm certainly not here to defend this perspective as objectively good, I do think it's worth acknowledging that it not only exists but is culturally rather ubiquitous. (If you're playing the love interest in a story with a hero v. a villain, you might wanna watch your back, is what I'm saying.)

Regardless of whether the vibe you're aiming for is romantic or platonic however, one thing is for certain: if you want maximum oomph, the way to achieve that is by making the villain go after the player whose death would hit the hero the hardest.

And like I said, this doesn't have to be played romantically (although it so often is). There are platonic examples in those trope pages, though it's also important to note that many of the platonic ones do show up in stories where a love interest isn't depicted/available/there's a strong "bromance" element/the hero is low-key ace - and keep in mind too that going that route sometimes runs a related risk of falling into queer-bait territory *coughJohnLockcough*

That said, if there is a canon love-interest available, one who's confessed her love for the hero, one who has since been imprisoned by the villain, one who can easily be written as being at the villain's disposal, and who could quite conveniently be whipped out for a mid-battle surprise round - you might find you have some explaining to do if you choose to wield your authorly powers to have the villain go after... idk, some other sheila instead.

(The fact that this ends up taking the hero out of the fight, and the person he sacrifices himself for subsequently throws herself into the arena risking life and limb to defeat the villain and rescue her saviour, also means the most satisfying way this plays out, narratively speaking, is if both of these characters happen to be the most important person in each other's lives - at least, as of that moment, anyway - but I think this post has gone on long enough, lol)

This is, by and large, a rebuttal post more than anything else, but the tl;dr here is - regardless of whether you want to read the scene as shippy or not, to downplay Zuko's sacrifice for Katara specifically as "not that deep™" because "Zuko would have taken the lightning for anyone anyway", suggests either that a) nobody should be reading into the implications of Katara being chosen as the person nearest and dearest to Zuko, so that putting her life in jeopardy can deliver the most powerful impact possible for an audience you'd bloody well hope are on the edge of their seats during the climax of your story or b) the writers made the inexplicable decision of having the villain threaten the life of... literally who the fuck ever, and ultimately landed on someone who's actually not all that important to the hero in the grand scheme of things - which is a cardinal writing sin if I ever saw one (even disregarding the Choice to then season it with mood lighting and sad violin music, on top of it all), and altogether something I'd be legitimately pissed about if my Zuko-OTP ship paired him with Mai, Sokka, or just about anybody else 😂

Most importantly c) I'm hungry, and I want snacks.

*The Aussies in the fandom will get this one. Everyone else can suffer in united confusion.

[bluecollarmcandtf]

I'm so annoyed, my best friend has such an asshole for a husband. He basically never pays attention to her, all he cares about sport, beer and his friends. He never helps around the house and he's a lazy slob! He's always at the gym or going to the game with his bros. He's such a prick, maybe he should just be date his bros since he's so obsessed with them. He's always complaining about his wife "bothering him". Plus who would want to marry a slob anyway, as a husband he should be devoted to cleaning his house and caring about who he is married to.

I think I found the guy you're talking about, and you're totally right about him being an asshole. Your friend deserves better than an uncaring, selfish, pig-of-a-husband. That girl has tolerated him for too long! She won't be seeing him or his sexist buddies ever again when I'm done here...

Just look at him! The first thing he does when he gets home is grab a beer and park that fat ass of his on the couch. Sure, he might hit the gym later on his way to the bar, but he's not planning on helping his wife out with dinner. He's not really planning on talking to her at all until he needs a blow job later tonight.

You mentioned his name was Brett, I think?

Well, Brett can barely hold a job. He's lucky you gave him a chance and got him a gig as a delivery man. I think he's been doing this for a month now, but he absolutely resents the work. Brett can't really enjoy anything unless he has a beer in his hand, and he absolutely hates wearing that stuffy little uniform.

Nevertheless, he's been consistently showing up so far; probably because his wife is waking him up, washing his clothes, and feeding him breakfast. Brett essentially only uses her as a maid and sex toy!

It's a good thing I've got something planned for Brett today as he starts his delivery rounds. He doesn't notice me following as he grumpily carries a package out of his truck, and he doesn't have time to react when I reach out and grab the back of his head.

"You're not going to move," I command, sinking my fingers into the soft parts of his skull, "You're going to let me in."

A deep sigh blows out of Brett's mouth, and I know his willpower is gone. "I'm not going to move. I'll let you in..." he repeats numbly.

With permission, I shoot inside his mind, discovering much of what I expected. His thoughts revolve around meeting up with his bros after work. He hasn't genuinely cared to think about his wife in ages. His mind is just as simple and unlikeable as he is.

Good thing I'm here to change it!

"Brett, I'm changing your thoughts. You like that. You want me to rewrite you."

"You're..." he struggles to form words, "You're changing my thoughts. I like that. I want you to rewrite me..."

"Good," I grin maliciously.

Bringing my lips closer to his ear, I begin to fill his head with his new personality. He accepts all his new goals and dreams wholeheartedly. I imagine, you will like them. They're the ones you asked for...

Done for now, I pull out of his mind, whipping Brett back into consciousness! He gasps for air as he regains his senses, but then something overtakes him. He's taken off running down the street!

I follow behind, knowing exactly where he'll end up. I must say that I enjoy watching his thick ass jogging away in those tight brown shorts. He's a lot more muscular than I gave him credit for.

I'm sure his new husband will enjoy that body of his too.

Brett sprints several blocks and runs straight up to a house at the end of the street. It's the home of one of his football buddies. I think his name might be Axel or Alex or something. I'm not sure.

Anyways, Brett bangs on the door, panting like a dog. When the door is finally opened, he wastes no time. Brett pulls his bro in for the long passionate kiss he's been waiting for.

"Dude?" his friend mumbles as their lips part, "What are you doing?"

Little does he know that I already hypnotized him, too. He's going to accept everything Brett does like it's what he's wanted all along.

"Axel! Man, I love you!" Brett moans, pulling his football buddy in closer, "I want you to marry me. I'll quit my job and be your housewife. I'll be better at that! And you can boss me around and use me however you want, bro! I mean everything; cooking, cleaning, everything!"

"Woah, dude! That's a lot to take in," he hesitates, but already his mind is giving in, "But yeah. I like the sound of that. Being my wife means more than just cooking and cleaning though."

Brett looks at his new love earnestly. Meanwhile, Axel straightens up and crosses his arms to look rough.

"It means pleasure, whenever I want it and wherever I want it. It means you only get to watch the football games in between you serving me and my friends. By the way, they're just my friends now. Got it, dude?"

"Yeah," Brett whines, "Just let me start now!"

Axel smirks and pulls his new house husband into the house, giving him a possessive slap on the butt as they pass over the threshold.

"Alright, bitch. I'm gonna treat you just as bad as you did that old girl of yours."

"Who?" Brett asks out of genuine confusion, but he's already brushed off the comment and dropped to his knees.

"I don't know. Don't care either," Axel sneers, "Just get started. Haven't blown a load all day."

The faint sound of repetitive gagging echoes out of the house as the front door slams shut. It seems like my work here is done.

The football gang will enjoy having a very willing bro to take care of all their needs, and Brett will do it with a genuine smile on his face. That friend of yours is a free woman, so I suggest she find something fulfilling to do with her life. Brett may be trapped in another marriage, but she sure as hell isn't!

Hope you liked how I handled your problem!

[sommerbueckers]

My Brother's Best Friend Pt3??

(smut😏)

A small breeze crept through my open window and a chill settled in my bedroom. I typed away on my computer, trying to finish up the last of my homework before Thanksgiving break came to an end. The week had been exactly what I thought it'd be and some change; Paige and Micha came home from college and spent the entirety of the break playing Fortnite and arguing over silly superheroes. The rest of the Bueckers family joined us for Thanksgiving dinner too where Drew graced us with a few of his dance moves. And to top it all off, I had gotten a 25% discount on a pair of Ugg boots for being the first person to purchase from the website on Black Friday.

I finished off the last of the water in my bottle, twisting the cap back on and tossing it toward the trash. I missed, badly. The sound of the plastic defeatedly hitting floor echoed through the room, though it wasn't louder than the laugh that came after it. I snapped my head to my door to find Paige standing there with her arms crossed, leaning against the frame. She had that adorable stupid smile plastered on her face as she looked at me.

"That couldn't have been worse if you tried" she laughed.

I rolled my eyes, twisting the chair around as I said, "Micha isn't here."

"I know that," she nodded, "I just got off the phone with him."

"So...why're you here?" I frowned.

"What? I can't visit my favorite cheerleader now?" the blonde asked with a pout, "That hurts my heart Sunny."

My unimpressed look didn't falter.

After a moment of silence she sighed, seemingly struggling to say what she was thinking.

"You and Micha are driving back today, shouldn't you be packing or something?" I asked, "Unless I've got the date wrong."

I stood up and walked over to the calendar I had hooked on the wall. My eyes traveled over to the large red circle, inside the writing read 'Paige and Micha go bye-bye:(.'

Paige cleared her throat from behind me, "No, you've got it right."

I turned around, staring at her from across the room.

"I just-"

"You just what?" I interrupted without thinking.

"I came to say goodbye" she admitted.

"Goodbye to me?"

"Yes you."

"Why me?"

"Jesus Sunny!" she exclaimed with a smile, "I can't say 'goodbye' to you?"

"No you, you can," I stammered.

Paige nodded contently, "Good."

She pushed off the doorway and began walking toward me, her arms opening the closer she got. I wasted no time wrapping my arms around her neck and pulling her close to me. We hugged for a little lot longer than we should've, both too embarrassed to say it but not enough to show it. I breathed in her scent, hoping to remember it long enough for it to last until I saw her again.

I loved the way I had to stand on my toes to reach her, how she never complained about having to bend over to hug me. Though truth be told I don't think she really minded.

I had gotten used to the sound of her laughter again as it rang throughout the house, how she always did the same celebration dance when she beat Micha in a game, how she never failed to make me feel seen whenever we were in the same room. I was crushing so hard on this girl it wasn't even funny.

When we pulled away, she took a step back.

"Were you serious when you said you were gonna unplug your tv if one of my games came on?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

"And miss the chance to see you all sweaty? No way..." I smirked.

She laughed loudly, I wanted to record it and add it to my Spotify playlist. Instead, I checked my watch and sighed.

"What time are you guys leaving?" I asked.

Paige shrugged, "Not sure, whenever he gets back I guess."

"Hmm," I hummed, "that could take hours."

I stepped closer.

"Yeah," she laughed, "or he could be back any minute."

She stepped closer.

At that point, you could cut the tension with a knife. I stared at her; ski slope nose, blue eyes, perfect teeth hiding behind those perfect lips. I just needed to last until winter break, that was only two weeks. I had gone far longer than that before, so surely I could do that...couldn't I? God I needed wanted her so bad.

In an instant her lips were on mine, her hands cupping my face as she held me in place. For a moment I was frozen, my eyes wide with shock while my brain processed what was happening. And when it did...boy did things take a turn. I pulled her closer by her shirt, our bodies pressing against each other as much as they could.

I felt her hands move from my face down to my ass, squeezing roughly. I laughed when her tongue slipped into my mouth, sending a fuzzy feeling from my chest down to my thighs. I couldn't help but let out the quietest moan at the feeling, my need for her growing with every second that passed.

I couldn't believe this was happening; Paige and I, me and Paige. It felt like sophomore year all over again, except I was sure by now, both of us had gained enough experience to actually have some fun. The thought of Paige fucking other girls was almost enough to make me cringe...almost. I didn't though, because right now those other girls didn't matter, I did.

She turned us around and pressed me against my vanity, my hands immediately grasping the edge of it to keep me from losing my balance.

We broke away from our kiss, giggling like schoolgirls at the way my perfume bottles and lotions had fallen from the sudden force.

"Too much?" she asked breathlessly.

I shook my head, "Not enough."

As she reconnected our lips, she trailed her hand up and down my inner thigh. I opened my legs, giving her access to where she wanted.

"Wider" she said.

I obliged, parting my legs further to allow her hand to trail closer to my spot.

This girl could tell me to jump and I'd ask 'How high?'

I felt her hand slide into the waistband of my leggings, and by her smile, I knew she had discovered how intense my need for her had gotten. I knew I was soaked, she knew I was soaked...now what was gonna be done about it?

She rubbed my clit through my panties so painfully slow that I could feel myself crumbling bit by bit.

I whined as I threw my head back, "Faster Paige, please faster."

She placed soft kisses on my neck, teasing me as she moved my panties from side to side. I was fucking throbbing. When she had finally had enough, she slowly began moving her fingers up and down my folds. I moved my hips to match the pace, my shaky breaths filing the room.

Up and down.

Circles.

Up and down.

Up and down.

Circles.

The patterns were driving me insane, and my shaky breaths soon turned into tiny whimpers. I wanted to come at the sight of her: staring down at me hungrily with those gorgeous eyes. Her lip taken in between her teeth as she focused her attention on pleasing me.

I was a needy mess. My face rested in a permanent pout as we held eye contact, my cheeks growing hot. She laughed lowly, almost as if she was teasing me. I felt her fingers speed up as she rubbed circular motions on my clit, it was so sensitive it almost hurt.

"F-fuck...just like that" I moaned out, nodding my head.

"Mmm you like that?" she smirked, once again changing her speed.

"Yes..." I whispered breathlessly.

Her middle finger razzed my entrance, pushing in only a little before pulling back out. She was enjoying the effect she had on me, the way she gauged my face for a reaction every time she did something new gave her away. Steadily, she inserted a finger. I gasped, sucking in all the air around me. I smiled at the sound that cut through the silence as she began to fuck me. Having to hear how wet I was for her was embarrassing, but I didn't even care.

"Faster" I pleaded shamelessly.

She laughed.

"Tell me how much you want it" she demanded.

She wanted me to talk? Of all things that she could've been hearing: moans, whimpers, strings of curse words as she fucked me senseless, she wanted to hear sentences? When I didn't respond she pulled her finger out, her left hand gripping the back of my neck while her right rested just outside of my entrance.

"I want it," I said, my voice pathetically desperate, "I want it so fucking bad."

She smiled smugly, giving me the most delicate kiss on my lips that I had ever gotten. She didn't back away as she slammed two fingers into me, listening for my reaction. She didn't have to listen very hard because the scream that I had let out was loud enough to alert the neighbors. She couldn't hold back her laughter as she watched my face contort from the pain and pleasure. She began pumping her fingers in and out, giving me time to adjust to it before quickening her pace.

"You're doing so good for me" she whispered, not taking her eyes off mine. "You take me so well."

I tried to play it cool but I just couldn't. I had gripped her shoulder tightly with one hand while keeping the other firmly behind me. The most pitiful moans fell from my lips as she started to speed up. I was practically dripping as I came close to my climax. I tried to hold it, not wanting this euphoric feeling to end, but I couldn't help it as I tightened around her.

"You gonna be a good girl and come for me, hm?" she asked teasingly.

"Y-yes" I panted.

"Yeah I know you are, go 'head mama" she cooed.

I buried my head into her shoulder as I came, my sweet cries muffled by the fabric of her t-shirt. She held her fingers in me for a moment, helping me through my orgasm before carefully sliding them out. I shuddered at the absence of them.

She smiled proudly at her hand, slowly bringing it to her mouth and sucking her fingers clean. She's definitely done that before. She pulled me in for a hug and kissed my head, "You're so adorable."

I smiled against her chest, and that's when we heard the front door open. Micha was home.

"I think that's my cue" she murmured into my hair.

I nodded sadly. "Two weeks?"

"Two weeks."

OKAY GIVE ME ANOTHER CHANCE ???🙏🏼🙏🏼 This smut was not very good but it's literally my first time ever ACTUALLY writing it so...how'd I do???

Just let me get some more practice and I promise y'all won't be disappointed, trust. Also this wasn't proofread so if there are any typos or whatever that's my bad...

[rarilight]

Tamagotchi - Ficlet ft. Rarity, Twilight, Fluttershy

PROMPT: Fluttershy asks Twilight to bring back her Tamagotchi pet after it accidentally dies

-----

When Fluttershy barged into Golden Oaks, reduced to tears, Twilight Sparkle feared the worst. Somepony had upset her sensitive friend, or a book she'd lent her had been accidentally too sad, or worse, one of Fluttershy's animals had died.

Which they had. Sort of. Kind of.

"Please, Twilight," Fluttershy sniffed, dabbing at her puffy eyes with a tissue. "Please, t-there must be something you can do! I've only had Sorbet for a week, and I promise I've taken good care of him, and--"

Twilight pursed her lips, hesitantly looking over the small purple electronic Tamagotchi. "One minute, let me see what I can do." She turned away from Fluttershy, fiddling with it for a moment before determining that, unfortunately, the battery was likely faulty.

"Well?" Fluttershy pressed. "Did you find out what's wrong?"

"I... I think so, yes," Twilight replied, still looking over the device. "The battery is shot. It's an easy fix, and I even have spares to give you, but... Well. The internal memory of these things usually rely on the battery, so--" She turned around to look at Fluttershy, her sentence petering out at the hopeful expression on her friend's face.

"So?" Fluttershy asked, her ears alert. "So you can bring Sorbet back?!"

Twilight smiled. Awkwardly.

"Ha ha. Well. Er."

Fluttershy's ears fell. Tears bordered her eyes anew. "....Twilight?"

"Yes!" Twilight lied, because she couldn't bring herself to tell Fluttershy that Sorbet was gone.”He’ll be there, just like always!”

“Really?!” Fluttershy gasped.

“Yes! Yep. Yes.” Twilight immediately levitated the Tamagotchi over to a bookcase. “Though, I, uh, need to keep him overnight just to make sure he’ll be okay. Alright?” At Fluttershy’s effusive nodding, Twilight apparated a notebook and pen. “And, uh, why don’t you, er, write down all the information you remember about him? Just so I can make sure the coding didn’t change.”

“Of course!” Fluttershy grabbed the notebook and immediately got to work. “Oh, thank you, Twilight!”

----

It was about three in the morning when Twilight Sparkle finally decided it was time to pass the torch. With bleary, tired eyes, she blinked at the details Fluttershy’d written, and then looked at the creature she’d been painstakingly grinding for hours. It had taken her about sixty-eight reboots to get a creature with the same shape, color, nature, gender, and preferences as the original Sorbet, and she’d only just gotten to the halfway point of matching its experience levels to the original’s. 

Thank Celestia for the book she’d read on using magic to hack devices. There was no other way she’d been able to bypass the time-locked events otherwise. 

To the sound of a big yawn, she walked towards the bed, tiredly rubbing the snoring blanketed lump on the couch. 

“Rarity, it’s your turn.”

“Sssssnore.”

Twilight rolled her eyes. “Rarity.”

“SSSSSNOOOOORE.”

“Come on! Up! Why did you send Fluttershy to get my help if you don’t like my solution?” Twilight chided, far too tired for shenanigans. “And stop that, we both know you don’t snore!”

“SSSSNOOOO—” The blanket came off, and a weary Rarity glared at her friend. “Fine, fine!” She magically snatched the Tamagotchi and frowned at it. “This is ridiculous, Twilight! It’s just a game! Sorbet isn’t even real!”

Twilight arched an eyebrow. “Oh? Do you want to tell Fluttershy that?”

Rarity looked away. “...No.”

“That’s what I thought. So, go!” She collapsed onto the couch and covered herself with blanket. “Level twenty-three. Six gifts pending. The complete sunflower outfit.”

“But the minigame is so difficult, and we already have the hat! Isn’t that enou—”

“Complete. Sunflower. Outfit.”

“But—!”

“SNOOOOORE!!!!”

----

“Oh, Twilight!” Fluttershy exclaimed the very next day, her eyes now filled with happy tears as she pressed button on her little device. “He’s fine! I’m so relieved!” She brought the device to her face and nuzzled it. “Oh, Sorbet, I’m so happy!”

“And everything is as you remember?” Twilight asked, the bags under her eyes matching the ones of Rarity, who was napping on the couch. “Not that it would be different, obviously! Because it’s the same Sorbet as always.”

“He’s just like always,” Fluttershy reassured her, allowing Twilight to finally relax. Or, well, until Fluttershy frowned, peering at her electronic friend. “Oh, that’s strange.”

“Strange?” Twilight asked, alert. “What is?”

Fluttershy blinked. “Oh. It’s just… His favorite fruit was oranges, but now it’s apples?”

“He changed his mind,” Rarity said, immediately, without even missing a beat or even turning around on the couch to look. 

Fluttershy looked at her friends, surprised. “He changed his min—?”

“Yep!” Twilight interrupted. “Yep. They do that. Yep.”

“But he really loved orang—”

“Darling!” Rarity continued. “Considering your crush on dear Applejack, it’s only natural he’d switch to apples, yes? Yes,” she interrupted, poor Fluttershy’s cheeks turning thirty different shades of red. “Problem solv—”

Twilight blinked at Fluttershy. “You have a crush on Applejack?”

“Rarity!” a flustered Fluttershy gasped in return.

“SSSSSNOOOOOOOORE….”

[bellaxgiornata]

The Devil at Your Window |4: One of the Good Ones|

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word count: 4.9k

Warnings/Tags: 18+; fluff, flirting, sexual tension, light angst, pining, eventual smut, identity reveal, and lots of black suit Matty

Series Installment List & Summary

a/n: Just a smidge of angst in this one! And I've already got a rough draft written for the next part, too! This story has been stuck in my head... Feedback is always appreciated!

Tag list: @danzer8705 @darkened-writer @keepingitlokiii @kezibear @dorothleah @sarahskywalker-amidala @1988-fiend @haruari @sleepysleepymom @marveious @sunflower-tia @fizanotfeeza

Your arm burned from the effort with which you were currently scrubbing your kitchen counter, working hard trying to remove a stubborn stain with the sponge in your hand. On the counter just behind you, your phone was playing music as you stress-cleaned. Truthfully you were too caught up in your thoughts as you'd been frantically jumping from one task to the next to have been paying much attention to what song was currently playing, though.

You'd already vigorously deep cleaned your bathroom, scrubbing your shower hard enough to make your fingers ache. Once you'd finished in there, you'd ended up in your bedroom, finally folding the laundry basket of clothes that had been sitting in the corner of your room all week. After that, you'd changed your bedsheets before bringing the dirty ones down to the laundry facility in your building to be washed. Upon returning to your apartment, you'd begun meticulously organizing your kitchen pantry before cleaning out the kitchen sink of dirty dishes. And then you'd landed on scrubbing your counters with every intention of cleaning off your stove top next.

You'd been cleaning like crazy after you'd come home from work tonight and finished dinner because you'd had a shitty day–though really it had been a shitty week. Everything had gone absolutely wrong at the office and you'd somehow managed to make a massive mistake on a big project the other day. Thankfully today you'd corrected the error, but your anxiety over the issue hadn't remotely disappeared. And of course, Eric, the most obnoxious and irritating co-worker at your workplace, had been at the top of his game of being an absolute asshole to you about the issue all week, too. You'd admittedly had far too many daydreams of throwing your coffee on him just to shut him up these past few days.

But as if that hadn't been enough, you'd found yourself becoming increasingly upset over the realization of your growing feelings for the Devil, who you hadn't actually seen since he'd appeared injured at your place just over a week ago. You were torn between believing his absence was either because he'd been recovering from his injury–which would also explain his absence in the news lately–or that he had zero interest in continuing whatever friendship you thought you'd both been developing. And because you'd gotten your period earlier today, you'd been hormonal all week. Which meant your brain had been telling you it was because of the latter reason.

But you didn't want to think about that. It was ridiculous to have a stupid crush on him. You didn't even know the man's name or what he looked like beneath the mask. You had no clue what he did for a living, if anything at all. And you'd only seen him three times now, it's not like you'd known him for months. It was quite likely he didn't feel the same despite the flirting he'd been doing. 

So that was what your brain continued to tell you this week whenever you got upset about his lack of appearances on your fire escape. That those visits hadn’t meant anything to him. You were just another person in the city he protected. His first visit had been accidental after all. And the second time was just to return the scarf he'd borrowed. The last time he had appeared had been because you'd been a convenient safe place for him to briefly stop and recover at when he'd been hurt, nothing more. 

Though trying to repeatedly rationalize that didn't make the ache in your chest disappear. It didn't stop you coming home every night from work hoping to have another surprise visit from the mysterious vigilante before you went to bed. And it certainly didn't stop you from shedding a few pathetic tears when he continued to remain absent each night. 

You'd begun to miss him. It was impossible to deny that now. And you'd worried about how he was doing with his injury, wondering if he really was alright. Which only had you wondering more about what he was capable of if he could meditate like that because–

“It's a bit early for spring cleaning, isn't it?”

Your hand abruptly paused mid-aggressive scrub of the stain that had long since been cleaned at the sound of the familiar and unexpected voice cutting through your thoughts. Eyes growing wide, you spun on your bare feet to find the Devil standing on the other side of your kitchen counter with a grin on his lips beneath that black mask.

“It's only February,” he teased. “Spring is still another few weeks away. Maybe show your counter a little mercy before you wear a hole in it.”

Hand gripping the soapy sponge tighter, you felt your heart nearly fly up into your throat in excitement. Because he'd come back . 

“You're here,” you breathed out.

“Yeah,” he replied. He gestured a gloved hand back towards the window behind himself. “You left that unlocked, so I may have just invited myself inside since you didn't seem to respond to my knocking. I hope you don't mind.”

You shook your head quickly, still surprised to see he'd actually returned. It felt like someone had loosed a multitude of butterflies in your stomach at the sight of him standing there so casually in your apartment once again. It was something you'd missed all week.

“No, that's alright,” you told him, shaking your head. “I don't mind.”

“You should really keep it locked though,” he stated. “Literally anyone could just climb in here. That's not exactly safe.”

Still trying to shake off the surprise of his visit as you took a step forward, turning off your music, a nervous laugh slipped out of you. “I think you're the only one crazy enough to climb all the way up that rickety fire escape,” you replied.

You turned, heading over towards your kitchen sink in the hopes of busying yourself with washing your hands so he wouldn't see the embarrassing grin steadily growing on your face. 

“I think you might be surprised with what the criminals will do in this city,” he countered.

“Well that's…unsettling,” you muttered, turning off the faucet and drying your hands on the nearby kitchen towel. “With the way my week has been going though I suppose it would be my luck that someone probably would climb through my window. Someone other than you, I mean.”

You set the towel back on the hook near your sink, turning around only to find the Devil had stepped around the counter and into your kitchen. He was standing a few feet away, his head tilted curiously to the side. How the hell did he always manage to move so quietly?

“You're having a bad week?” he asked. “Is that why everything smells like lemon cleaner in here and why you were scrubbing your counter so hard you couldn’t hear me knocking on the window?”

Clasping your hands together in front of yourself, you fidgeted awkwardly with your fingers. Now that your hands weren't busy with an actual task you were feeling your anxious thoughts beginning to spiral again. Especially because it was only Thursday night and you still had to go into work tomorrow and deal with Eric and everyone else when all you desperately wanted to do was crawl into bed for the duration of the weekend and pretend this week never happened. 

“What's wrong, angel?” the Devil asked softly.

You glanced up at the sound of the name he’d called you just before he left your apartment last time, watching as he took another step towards you. You sniffled lightly, trying to ignore the confusing and conflicting feelings arising inside of you at the nickname. The smile disappeared from his lips, his mouth instead pulling a bit downwards at the corners. Swallowing hard, you waved a dismissive hand at him.

“Nothing, things are good,” you lied. “I'm fine.”

The frown visibly deepened on his face before he took another step closer. “Someone who's fine doesn't generally deep clean their place on a random Thursday evening,” he pointed out. “And it seems like you've been on the verge of tears for a bit now. What's going on?”

You swallowed hard, wondering how he could’ve possibly known that when he’d only just entered your apartment. Yet another one of his mysterious little powers, you figured.

“Nothing,” you answered. “Really, I’m good. I just got into a random cleaning frenzy. It happens.”

The Devil’s head canted further to the side, his lips thinning along his face. He shook his head slowly, taking another cautious step towards you.

“You’re not fine,” he replied. “And for the record, I know when someone is lying, angel.”

You sighed, wrapping your arms around your chest and trying to ignore the way your stomach twisted nervously at that name again. Surely it was meant to be more of a joke than a term of endearment considering you always called him Devil.

“Another useful skill of yours?” you asked curiously. “Like your ability to heal?”

Briefly a smirk slid over his mouth, one you caught just before it disappeared. Your eyes narrowed suspiciously back at him.

“Something like that,” he answered. “So believe me when I say that I’m not buying the line that you’re okay. What happened?”

Eyes darting down, your nails began to pick at your sweatshirt nervously. The memory of your boss chewing you out at work the other day resurfaced in your mind, quickly followed by one of Eric’s heartless comments to you afterwards. The continual disappointment of an empty fire escape night after night before you went to bed also reared its head, tears starting to sting at your eyes at the memory of those lonely nights. Blinking rapidly, you tried to stop the tears from coming.

You did not want to cry in front of the Devil.

“Nothing,” you muttered, shrugging your shoulders. “It’s all stupid in comparison to what you’re usually dealing with anyway, so don’t worry about it.”

“Hey,” he murmured, closing the remaining distance between you and gently grabbing your shoulders, lowering his masked face into your line of sight. “It’s not a competition.”

His light, reassuring touch only had the tears welling up faster in your eyes. It had been so long since someone had touched you like that. With comfort and care. A touch that made you feel both safe and seen. And here he was doing it with such ease, like you deserved that sort of attention–and from him no less. 

It suddenly became all too much. A single tear slipped out of the corner of your eye as you gazed up at his face half-obscured by that mask, unable to blink it back before it made its way down your cheek. The Devil’s hands carefully began pulling you in towards himself barely a second later. Surprised at his response, your arms remained wrapped around yourself as his arms slowly encircled your shoulders.

He was hugging you. Comforting you.

Somehow that managed to open the floodgates to your emotions, the tears beginning to spill down your cheeks hot and wet in a continuous stream that you couldn't seem to control. Your hands gripped your sweatshirt tighter, unsure if you should hug him in return or not. Instead, you pressed your face into the thin fabric of his black shirt, attempting to hide how fast the tears were flowing from his sight.

You weren’t exactly sure why you were even crying at this point, either. Was it because of the shitty week you’d had? Because of the gentle touch and compassion coming from the masked vigilante, a touch that you hadn’t felt since you'd last been in a relationship? Was it because of the fact that him holding you like this only stirred up those confusing feelings further inside of you, making you wonder what this weird relationship with the Devil actually was? Or was it just because you were hormonal and on your period?

“I'm sorry,” you choked out.

“Don't apologize,” he replied instantly.

The smokey voice he always used had your fingers twisting tighter around your sweatshirt, your heart beating a little harder at the sound of it so soft beside your ear. You shifted, burying your face further against his chest. Though guilt quickly filled you as you cried. Because he shouldn't be comforting you, not for something so foolish. Not when there were people out there who actually needed him and all you'd had was a bad week, some out of control hormones, and a stupid crush.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked. “Is there something I can do to help?”

You shook your head, begging the tears to stop falling. This was embarrassing. You didn't want him to see you like this, let alone be comforting you.

“No,” you whispered. 

You have better things to be doing with your time , you thought bitterly. I don't deserve the comfort.

Clenching your jaw, you took an abrupt step back from him. You raised an arm up, using the sleeve of your sweatshirt to aggressively wipe the dampness from your cheeks. Before you, the Devil stood with his arms still hovering in the air as if he was still holding you, seemingly confused about you withdrawing from his embrace so suddenly. There was a large wet spot from your tears soaking the front of his black shirt already.

“I'm sorry, that was embarrassing,” you muttered, still wiping at your eyes as the tears gradually slowed. “I know you don't want to be dealing with an emotional mess tonight. That's not what the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen does.”

“Who says it's not what I do?” he countered, his arms lowering back to his sides. “I'm here to help people who need it–and for the record,” he added, “crying does not make you an emotional mess. Trust me on that.”

“Well,” you began, sniffling a little, “my problems aren’t the type you can punch. And you can't exactly punch away my feelings. Or my hormones. So I think this is a little out of your usual wheelhouse.”

“Maybe so,” he agreed, “but you've helped me plenty of times now. Is it wrong for me to want to return the favor?”

So that's why he was comforting you. A sort of quid pro quo. Tit for tat. An exchange of favors, not because he'd genuinely cared about what had happened to you this week and would have offered to help anyway, but because he felt like he owed you something in return. That's what he was saying, wasn’t it? 

“I don't help you because I want anything in return,” you muttered, turning around and wiping the sleeve of your sweatshirt across your eyes once again. Afterwards, you reached up into a nearby cabinet and grabbed a clean glass from out of it. “I help you because I worry about you out there. And because I think you're one of the good ones.”

You closed the cabinet door before focusing on the faucet in front of you, filling the glass with cool water. Sniffling softly, you felt the tears beginning to slow to a stop as you tried to collect yourself. You’d cry about your misplaced feelings later when he wasn’t here. Right now you just wanted to enjoy his company and not scare him off with your tears. And maybe make sure he was doing alright himself tonight.

Once the glass was full, you turned off the faucet and inhaled a trembling breath, attempting to steel your resolve. You were not going to cry anymore tonight. 

“For what it's worth,” the Devil said from behind you, “I think you're one of the good ones.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes and shaking your head at his comment, your back still facing him. Now that sounded like a line.

“I’m serious,” he continued. “How many people would help a vigilante instead of turning him over to the police? And how many would just ignore him entirely? And here you are inviting me into your home multiple times now without question. Always offering whatever form of assistance you can when you certainly don't need to.”

Eyes dropping down to the full glass in your hands, you felt your heart flutter in your chest at his kind words. Clearing your throat, you tried to swallow the lump that had begun to form. “I think you vastly underestimate what you mean to the people in this city, Devil,” you whispered.

Gradually you turned back around, the glass of water clutched between both of your hands. His lips were once again pulled in a straight line across his face, his head faintly tilted to the side. 

“You're a symbol of hope to many in Hell’s Kitchen,” you said softly, extending the glass out towards him. “A sign that there’s still good in the world. That there are still people who care about helping those in need.”

You could see the muscles working in his cheeks, the corner of his lips twitching faintly. You wondered what expression he was making beneath the mask right now. Was he not aware of what he meant to this city?

“Here,” you said, holding the glass out further towards him. “Drink it. I’m sure you’re dehydrated.”

The Devil’s right hand flexed open and shut at his side for a moment, your eyes drawn to the movement. After a minute's hesitation you saw it raise, reaching out to carefully accept the glass of water from your own hand. He murmured a soft ‘thanks’ as he drew it up towards his lips. In silence you watched the bob of his throat as he drank almost half the glass immediately, a satisfied smile eventually landing on your face. 

“You hungry?” you asked, stepping around him and heading over to your fridge. “I have spaghetti leftover from dinner tonight. Unfortunately no garlic bread,” you grumbled, opening the door of your fridge. “Because my week was apparently so bad that I even forgot to grab garlic bread at the store.”

“Don’t worry about me, I’m fine,” he assured you.

Half bent in front of your fridge, you glanced over your shoulder, shooting him a flat look. “Are you planning to go home and eat something before you go to sleep tonight?” you asked him. “From the fridge you have apparently only stocked with beer, eggs, and sometimes orange juice?”

He hung his head in defeat, his gaze behind the mask appearing to drop to the floor. It looked like he was fighting back a grin on his face.

“Well…no,” he admitted sheepishly.

“Right,” you said, focus returning to the contents of your fridge. “So do you eat spaghetti? Because I have plenty.”

“If you’re that determined to feed me, yes,” he answered. “I do.”

Reaching into your fridge, you pulled out the container of leftovers that you’d put away earlier this evening before you’d begun meticulously stress cleaning. You closed the door, bringing the container over to your counter and setting it down before searching for a clean bowl and a fork.

“So how’s your rib doing?” you asked as you worked. “Did your doctor friend tell you it was broken? Have you somehow meditated it back to normal already with that useful ‘skill’ of yours?”

The Devil chuckled good-naturedly behind you as you began scooping some pasta into a bowl for him. Internally you thought it strange that he found that somehow funny, though that warmth of pleasure filled you at once again still being able to make him laugh.

“She's a nurse, not a doctor, and that's hard to say,” he answered. “I’d need an x-ray to know if I had actually broken it, and I can’t exactly go to a hospital because they’d surely call the authorities on me. But either way, it’s feeling better than that night I was last here. Not completely healed with my ‘skill,’ but the pain is…tolerable.”

You stopped mid-scoop of some pasta, your head turning over your shoulder towards him. Quirking a brow at him, you shot him a quizzical look. 

“The pain is ‘tolerable’?” you asked him. “So you mean to tell me you’re still going around tonight scaling buildings and jumping off fire escapes with an injury that’s not even fully healed?”

The Devil shrugged a shoulder nonchalantly, shooting you a charming smile. “Yeah,” he answered. “Something is almost always injured or hurting. But it's not like crime ever takes a night off. So usually neither do I.”

Sighing, you focused back on scooping pasta into the bowl for him. “I'm starting to worry about your sanity,” you half-joked. “You know, I've always wondered why you do what you do. I don't suppose you'd answer that truthfully, would you?”

Picking up the bowl, you stepped over towards your microwave and set it inside. Setting the timer to heat it up, you turned around and leant your back against the counter, crossing your arms over your chest as you eyed him expectantly. 

The Devil shook his head, a faint smile on his mouth. “No, not right now,” he answered. “But maybe someday I could answer that for you.”

Hugging your arms tighter around yourself, you tried to hide the thrill that shot through you at his answer. The prospect of him continuing to visit you was clearly layered in his response and you couldn't even begin to explain how that made you suddenly feel.

“Always so mysterious,” you muttered nervously, glancing down at your feet.

“Don't suppose you'd ever give me your name, would you?” he countered.

You grinned, glancing up at him from beneath your lashes as the microwave hummed behind you. “I'll tell you mine when you tell me yours, Devil,” you replied. 

“So mysterious ,” he teased back, grinning. 

You tried to bite back the smile growing on your face, laughing softly. The grin only grew wider on his face and your cheeks began to heat at the sight. You could feel your heart beating a little faster as you watched him from across the kitchen, taking in the handsome shape of his mouth and feeling the nervous churning of your stomach beginning to increase at the comfortable silence that fell over you both.

Thankfully your microwave beeped a moment later, pulling you from the moment that surely would have only resulted in you further ogling him, wondering what he looked like beneath the mask. Turning around, you opened the microwave and removed the bowl of spaghetti. You set it back onto the counter, mixing it around with a fork to make sure the entire bowl had been thoroughly heated. Satisfied that it was warm, you picked up the bowl and carried it over to the Devil. 

“You can have a seat at the table if you want,” you offered, holding the bowl out to him.

You gestured your other hand to the small circular table just outside of your kitchen. The Devil accepted the bowl of pasta from you, looking somewhat over his shoulder where you'd gestured. 

“Thank you,” he replied. 

You watched as he twirled a handful of noodles onto his fork immediately, bringing it up to his mouth before he'd even began to make his way towards your table. It was obvious he was hungry with the way he'd shoveled the bite into his mouth–just like when he'd devoured that burrito–and that satisfied smile returned to your face. Even if you'd messed up a lot of things this week, at least you'd managed to do something helpful for him. And that felt good.

You'd been about to turn around and put away the container of leftovers still sitting out on your counter when you saw him suddenly freeze, his entire body tensing. Your own body froze as you watched him chew the bite of food so slowly, your stomach sinking to the floor.

“What?” you asked cautiously, feeling self-conscious and on the verge of tears again. Had you actually somehow messed this up, too? “Is it…not good? I mean I know I'm not the best cook or anything, but I thought I was decent at making spaghetti sauce. It's not that complicated.”

The Devil swallowed the bite of spaghetti, his body still stiff as he stood there. His hand had tightened around the fork in the bowl as he remained silent, which only had your nerves growing. The feeling of being a failure once again this week was suddenly bearing down heavily on you. Was there nothing you could do right this week?

“Look, if it doesn't taste any good you don't need to eat it,” you told him, taking a step closer and reaching for the bowl. “Apparently I just can't manage anything this week. Just one of those weeks I gu–”

“This tastes exactly like the spaghetti my dad used to make,” the Devil whispered in disbelief.

Your hand hovered in the air reaching out for the bowl, your mouth hanging open at what he'd told you. That certainly hadn't been the reaction you'd expected. 

“Wh–what?” you stammered out.

The Devil pointed at the bowl of pasta with the fork in his hand, something like amazement creeping into his voice as he focused on you. When he spoke again, you'd noticed that raspy, deep voice he always used had disappeared.

“The sauce,” he told you, his words gradually picking up speed as he spoke. “It tastes exactly like the spaghetti sauce my dad used to make when I was a kid. I–I haven't tasted anything quite so similar since he passed when I was young. The likeness is incredible.”

You could feel the heavy pounding of your heart in your chest at yet another little piece of the real man beneath the mask being revealed to you. Mouth opening and closing a few times, you quickly realized you didn't know how to respond. Was he going to run away on you now that he'd let another little personal detail slip? Especially considering it looked like he was also realizing what he'd just told you and was beginning to regret it.

“I'm–I'm sorry to hear about your father,” you managed out.

The Devil continued to stare at you over the bowl of spaghetti in his hands, his lips pressing together as his mouth began to twitch. It was as if he didn't quite know what to say himself, but the longer he remained quiet, his jaw grinding back and forth, the more fearful you became that he was going to bolt back out of your window for accidentally revealing more personal information about himself to you. 

Slowly you held up your hands in front of yourself like one might do to a scared animal, hoping not to scare him further. The Devil didn't move, but his jaw visibly tensed at the gesture. 

“Look, I'm not about to tell anyone that you come here sometimes,” you told him. “And I don't go digging around on the internet trying to find out who you really are with the vague information I have, mostly because I don't have that level of motivation, if I'm being honest.” You saw the corner of his lips twitch upwards at your comment and you cautiously lowered your hands back to your sides. “I just want to help. That's all,” you continued. “And personally I worry that if I scare you off, you'll end up out there starving and with kidney damage from constantly not drinking enough water while you're out parkouring around the city.”

“You're worried about my kidneys now?” he asked, amusement in his tone. 

You shrugged lamely, shooting him a small smile. “If I say yes will you sit down and eat that spaghetti and drink some more water?” you questioned back. “Instead of jumping out of my window like a terrified cat?”

Something like an amused snort came from him as he turned, making his way towards your little kitchen table. You relaxed when you realized he wasn't going to disappear on you.

“For the record,” the Devil told you, voice muffled around a large bite of spaghetti that he'd shoveled into his mouth, “I am not a stray cat.”

“Of course not,” you agreed, picking up the glass of water he'd already finished and set onto the counter. You brought it over to your sink and began to refill it for him. “Because a cat would know better than to keep running around and making a broken rib worse. And I'm not sure how partial they are to spaghetti,” you joked. 

At the bright sound of his laughter over the sound of the running faucet, you found yourself smiling. You'd certainly missed having him here, even if you knew you were going to miss him the moment he finished that bowl of spaghetti and jumped back over your fire escape. All you could really do was enjoy the next few minutes you had with him and hope that he returned another time. 

Though deep down you sort of found yourself hoping he was more like a stray cat than he let on, because at the very least, maybe the prospect of food and water would tempt him to appear again at your window sooner rather than later. 

And that thought was steadily giving you an idea.

[danrifics]

you all pestered me for it and here it is. the closeness analysis/ theory.

now if you didn't see I basically had this theory that the closer to BIG and COTY we get in the DAPG timeline the closer dan and phil sit to each other. Dan made a comment about how them playing Heartthrob being like a gay soft launch and that got me thinking of some other ways they could have done it and one of those being the idea that as time goes on you get less and less strict and worrisome about what others think of you and so they end up gravitating closer and closer.

This post will be under a see more cos its probably gonna be long af.

I will be splitting it into stages.

2014 -15

2016 - 17

2018

revival

sorry the screenshots arent clickable to make bigger tumblr only allows for 30 on a post so i had to group them together!

(i will not be covering horror games apart from in the revival stage and i will also not be talking much about gamingmas 2023)

2014 - 15

now when i initially went to collect my evidence, i was suddenly worried maybe i kinda had things wrong because i feel like in Donkey Kong Country (the first dapg video, see screenshot below) they're sat pretty close but honestly when we get to how they sit a lot later on you'll see that this is actually pretty far apart

now here are some screenshots for the inital look at at the end of them we'll talk (this will be the layout for most of this post i think)

now of course this is only a selection of those year's videos if i screenshotted them all i fear this post would never end. now these first 2 years are a good mix of at desk videos on sofa videos. i noticed from some other videos not show here that in sofa videos they rend to sit a lot closer to each other than they do at the desk, this is kinda funny to me cos really they definitely have room for a wider frame on the couch if they wanted to sit like normal people.

2016 - 17

2016 and the start of 2017 feel like a mixed bag of how close together they are but i did notice that the more into 2017 we got the more they seemed to be shoulder to shoulder! these also started to wean out sofa sitting games (not 100% gone yet but almost). now if you're wondering why i've kept this screenshot apart its cos this is the last one in the first london apartment.

and honestly from here on out is where i believe the "soft launching" begins!

so lets finish 2017 and see if im right!

just had to single out this screenshot for a sec:

in case anyone wondered that is the face dan made during dream daddy when phil reads "we were roommates for a while too"

softlaunch?

anyway moving on

watching these videos definitely feels like something changed btw, while they still arent as close as we'll start seeing them sit, i definitely noticed more often they were shoulder to shoulder. but like a new room has definitely changed the vibe a little bit between them, and now we can move on to the next and final year of pre hiatus dapg, where things as you will see immediately start to change.

2018

like i said... immediately we are met with this, i would also like to let everyone know that 2018 is my favourite era of pre hiatus dapg

lets see what the rest of this year will bring

now i'm splitting 2018 up into parts because i need to do a whole talk about the tour situations so for now lets look at the above screenshots, now its very obvious that they are sitting so much closer to each other which i think is really funny considering how big that room is and often in this section of videos there is a lot of room either side of them so they literally do not need to be that close.

now lets talk about the tour bus. this is how close they're sitting

thats for sure a 1 person seat yet they've both forced themselves on even tho the sofa literally behind them would have been perfectly fine to sit on, and they cant give me "this is the only place to set up the camera" babe its really not theres a whole surface behind you.

okay thank you for listening to this, moving on to the final part of 2018!

(the last 2 screenshots are out of order oops)

idk about you but yeah i think they are definetly a lot closer than they were way back in 2014. i really dont have a lot to say other than that, and i have definetly proven my theory so now we've established that lets have a brief look at post hiatus dapg!

Revival

Now this is gonna be really brief its just a summary of where we are post BIG/COTY and post hiatus (things my brain still cant quite believe is real)

now here are the revival moments i wanna give a mention!

firstly sims season ep 3 when dan moves his chair away from phil and their wheels are literally locked together, pushing phil's chair too

heres dan looking into the monitor and then moving closer to phil <3

and finally

hand hold

thanks for reading all this and sorry if it didnt live up to the hype lmao

[fafnir19]

Desperate Gamble

Lewis ran his hand through his unkempt, long blond hair, the weight of desperation settling in his tired eyes. He had lost his job, and the mountain of unpaid bills loomed over him like a dark cloud. Determined to turn his luck around, he made his way to the casino, hoping for a miracle. As he settled in front of the slot machines, he felt a glimmer of hope dwindling away with each spin of the reels.

Empty pockets and desperation drove him deeper into despair. That's when he caught the gaze of a sharply dressed man, Natas. "You look like you could use a win," Natas said, his voice smooth as silk. Lewis forced a weary smile. "I've already lost everything. It's too late for me." But Natas offered him a lifeline, a handful of chips to try his luck at roulette. "Keep the winnings for yourself. But if luck turns, I get to change something about you," Natas proposed, a smirk playing on his lips.

Desperation mixed with curiosity, Lewis accepted the chips and moved to the roulette table, filled with apprehension about Natas' vague terms. As the wheel spun, a spark of hope flickered in Lewis' eyes. He won the first two rounds, his spirits lifted. Yet, as the wheel stopped on the wrong number, Natas intervened. Lewis' long hair vanished, replaced by a neat faded cut.

His reflection showed a stranger in the mirror, but the thrill of victory outweighed his unease. Natas commented, "You look a little more well-groomed now," as Lewis racked up more wins. However, as luck ebbed and flowed, Lewis lost another round, and Natas changed his clothes, transforming his casual t-shirt into a crisp, unbuttoned shirt.

"Much better," Natas remarked, a glint of amusement in his eyes. With each victory, Lewis felt a new surge of hope, until the next loss resulted in a drastic change. His entire body morphed, becoming younger and more athletic.

Natas observed, "What a handsome devil you are now." Despite his unease about Natas' unpredictable alterations, the thought of erasing his debts fueled Lewis' resolve. He played on, ignoring the nagging fear brewing within him. Then with another loss, Lewis was taken aback to find a curly brown hair sprouting on his scalp. It was an odd change, but he found himself oddly comforted by the familiarity of his hair quirks. Another loss besieged him, and with it came a sudden eruption of beard hair that covered him like an untamed wilderness.

He found some semblance of peace and was convinced that Natas had run out of new ideas and a smile tugged at his lips. After all, what more could Natas possibly change about him? A curly hair and a beard, he thought wryly. It seemed frivolous and, frankly, amusing. As he continued his winning streak, a glimmer of hope danced in his eyes. Perhaps, just perhaps, he could finally clear his suffocating debts. However, the relentless whims of fate had other plans and Natas was far from done with his cruel game.

The next loss swiftly changed Lewis' appearance once again. This time, he found himself clad in a tuxedo, the sharp lines and tailored precision a far cry from the chaotic jumble of curly hair that had covered his sculp moments before.

Natas remarked: "You're more of a classic type. The tuxedo and the buzz cut suits you,"

And with the next loss, the tailored tuxedo morphed into a classic tailcoat. The beard was gone, replaced by the clean lines of the tailcoat, disturbingly polished and refined.

Natas' smug satisfaction was palpable as he remarked, "You look like a sophisticated servant in a tailcoat. I like that!” His eyes glittered with a mocking expression that betrayed unspeakable amusement. It felt like being stripped of an armor that had been forged from sheer desperation. It was a strange spectacle, Lewis mused, as the weight of his debts and Natas' twisted game bore down on him. The classic tailcoat now clung to him like a haunting specter of the changes that had befallen him. He felt like a marionette, herded along by the whims of an unseen force, the fabric clinging close like a whisper from a forgotten time.

Euphoria clawed at Lewis as the stakes rose. He was close to ridding himself of his debts, the  question of what Natas might alter next became a distant thought. As the wheel slowed to a stop, Lewis lost once more, and Natas' next change left him reeling. A sharp pain seared through Lewis, and in an instant, he was circumcised. Natas' chilling words pierced through Lewis, "You shouldn't hide anything from me, not even your glans under your foreskin." Shaken to the core, Lewis struggled with mounting terror, but the specter of his debts loomed larger. Pushing his fear down, he steeled himself to continue, knowing he was only a few wins away from financial freedom.

However, this time, the ball landed on the wrong number, and Natas' eyes twinkled with a devious delight. Lewis's pulse quickened, a knot forming in the pit of his stomach as he awaited the next change. But nothing happened. Confusion etched lines into his forehead as he turned to Natas. "Why... why didn't you change anything?" Natas' grin widened as he leaned in, his voice dripping with wicked amusement. "Ah, my dear Lewis, sometimes the greatest changes are not physical but rather... internal." Lewis's gaze hardened with a flicker of trepidation as he absorbed Natas' words. "What do you mean, internal?" Natas' eyes gleamed with a sinister glint as he began to explain. "You see, my friend, this time I didn't change your appearance. Instead, I made a change to your very essence, your soul, your... personality." An icy jolt of fear shot through Lewis' veins. His breath caught in his chest as the gravity of Natas' words sank in. "What did you do to me?" Natas let out a throaty chuckle, relishing in Lewis' disconcerted state. "You are now my loyal servant, my dear Lewis," Natas said, savoring every word. "And from now on, you shall pronounce my name the right way round. I am Satan, and you are Siwel."

Lewis' heart thundered in his chest, and a chill crept down his spine. The weight of Natas's proclamation shattered Lewis' hopes and imprisoned him in an unfathomable terror. "No, this can't be happening. I won't be... Siwel." Lewis’ mouth twisted into a desperate plea. "Please, don't do this. I beg you," he implored, his voice laced with desperation. "There must be an alternate path. I can't be tethered to this... this servitude." Satan smirked, an eerie satisfaction twisting his features. "But where has your freedom led you, Siwel? Bereft of purpose, shackled by debts. Your existence is an aimless spiral." Lewis grappled with the turmoil in his heart, the stinging tendrils of despair clawing at his resolve. "I beg of you, grant me a second chance. Release me from this servitude," he pleaded, his voice wrought with anguish. Satan's eyes glittered with malevolent amusement, but he could sense the desperation in Lewis' words. "Very well, a gamble then," Satan proposed, a cruel smirk playing on his lips. "The next round will be the decisive one. If you win, you will be free to leave and return to your former self. However, if you lose, you will become my servant in every sense, including a change in your sexual orientation." Lewis' stomach twisted in knots, and a conflict raged within him. As the wheel spun, Lewi's thoughts whirled with indecision. His old life had been marred by despair and debt, while his new existence under Satan's tyranny offered a semblance of purpose, albeit twisted and vile. The thought of giving in to Satan's dark whims filled him with fear, but the prospect of returning to his old life was also grim. A daring impulse seized Lewis, and as the ball spiraled in the roulette wheel, he delved into the depths of his tumultuous mind. Surrendering to the chaos within, he let the ball roll and just as it neared a stop, he reached out and grabbed the ball and said with a cocky grin, "I think I've lost now!"

Satan's eyes flashed with dark glee, a cruel satisfaction washing over his features. "You seem to like balls," he remarked, reveling in Siwel's new fate. "From now on, you shall be a croupier in the casino, seducing people into gambling and addiction. And you'll offer your own balls for play, for both men and women alike." Siwel got horny by the thought that strangers play with his balls and he felt the shackles of his former self disintegrate with a  sensation of numb respite. "Yes, Satan," he murmured, inundated by a tide of delectable submission. "Thank you for this...refined purpose."

The sultry chuckle of Satan echoed through the dimly lit casino, sending a shiver of anticipation down Siwel's spine. The once-desperate man had transformed into a willing participant in Satan's twisted game, his heart pounding with a newfound exhilaration. As he stood before his master, a strange fusion of euphoria and apprehension coursed through him. "Satan, I'm grateful for the purpose you've bestowed upon me," Siwel began, his voice tinged with a mixture of fervor and trepidation. "I am eager to embrace my role as a croupier and seduce patrons into the vices of gambling and addiction." Satan's eyes glimmered with malevolent satisfaction. "Ah, Siwel, you understand the extent of your newfound purpose. Your willingness to indulge the desires of others will pave the way for their descent into the depths of temptation." Siwel's gaze drifted to the opulent surroundings of the casino, a haven for both decadence and despair. "I shall become the harbinger of their vices, an instrument of allure and enticement to beckon them further into the labyrinth of their own desires." Satan's lips curled into a sinister smile. "And do not forget, my devoted servant, that you offer your own allure as well. Your charismatic appeal will entice both men and women, binding them to the tantalizing allure of the game." Siwel's heart quickened at the prospect, a strange sense of purpose intertwining with his impending subservience. "I am ready to embrace this role wholeheartedly. Through temptation and allure, I shall ensnare their souls, binding them to the fate that I now willingly serve."

Days turned into endless nights, and Siwel was consumed by the intoxicating waltz of temptation and seduction. As he drifted through the hallowed halls of the casino, he became the embodiment of desire itself, a siren beckoning unwitting patrons into a turbulent sea of addiction and longing. One fateful eve, as the chimes of the roulette wheel reverberated through the casino, Satan's piercing gaze met Siwel's as the master of temptation approached his devoted servant. "Siwel, your dedication to the seductive arts has not gone unnoticed," Satan purred, his voice dripping with malevolent allure. "Your willingness to draw others into the enthralling web of temptation shall serve as a testament to your newfound devotion." Siwel's pulse quickened with a strange mixture of complicity and longing. "I embrace this role with every fiber of my being, eager to ensnare those who dare to test the boundaries of their desires." As the nights bled into each other, Siwel's spirit was consumed by the inferno of his newfound allure, a passion burgeoning within him that blurred the line between devotion and subservience.

On a moonlit night, amid the haunting melody of the casino's symphony, Satan approached Siwel once more. "Do you realize, Siwel, that to me, you are little more than a slot machine—an object to indulge the desires of those who dare to seek out their temptations."

Siwel's lips curved into a smile, a strange sense of excitement blossoming in his heart. "You have objectified me, my master, and yet, I have found a purpose in your bewitching design. Through the allure of temptation, I have become a vassal to the desires of those who revel in the tapestry of their vices." Satan's eyes gleamed with dark satisfaction as he beheld his devoted servant. "Your unwavering submission to the art of temptation is a testament to the mastery of your newfound purpose. Embrace the allure that envelops you, Siwel, and surrender to the symphony of enticement that binds you to the very essence of their desires." Lewis has become a living embodiment of his sinister master's command: An object of indomitable attraction, subservience and desire.

[teecupangel]

@thedragonqueen1998's reply to this post

That new tag actually is an idea/AU i've thought of lately. XD Where Desmond gives birth to Altaïr, Ezio and Ratonhnhaké:ton before being kidnapped. I've personally had him just suddenly become pregnant, no sex needed to lean more into the "Desmond is the Chosen One". XD Plus, we need more Dadmond tbh.

Virgin Birth.

Desmond had never even heard about it until he googled ‘Is it possible to get pregnant without having sex?’.

This is, according to Wikipedia, different from Immaculate Conception.

Desmond would like to reiterate that he was not the second coming of Virgin Mary.

… as far as he knew.

Not only that, he had been a virgin before he gave birth, having enough trust issues to fill a goddamn dam at the moment.

It wasn’t like he didn’t want to know how sex feels like.

It was more that he was still scared that his father or someone his father sent would come find him and take him away from this freedom.

He can’t go back.

He would never go back.

Especially now that he had three sons to think of.

They were born on December 21, 2005.

At least, that was what Desmond believed.

The morning of December 21, his stomach started hurting so badly he couldn’t leave his bed. The pain ebbed and flowed from paralyzing pain to almost unnoticeable, giving Desmond a chance to text that he wouldn’t make it to his shift because of ‘stomachaches’.

His boss assumed he had diarrhea and told him to stop eating weird cheap shit.

Desmond was pretty sure that wasn’t it but it wasn’t like he could go to a clinic and get this check out.

Clinics meant asking questions about who he was and his history.

Clinics left tracks that William Miles can find.

Desmond knew how the game is played.

And fuck that. Desmond wasn’t going to give up his goddamn freedom because of a stomachache.

It will come to pass.

Like every pain Desmond ever felt.

So he closed his eyes and took deep breaths. Inhaling deeply before slowly exhaling, timing his breathing to the ebb and flow of the pain.

By midday…

Desmond fell asleep.

He didn’t know if the breathing helped him fall asleep or if he had passed out from the exhaustion and pain.

When he woke up, the sun had started to set and…

The pain was gone.

His bed was a lost cause, covered in blood, but Desmond’s attention was focused on the three small forms lying on the bed between his legs.

His sons.

Three bloodied (and, Desmond was being honest, wrinkly newly born ugly) babies who were all staring at him as they make cooing sounds.

That was the day Desmond became a father.

And also the day he googled ‘Is it possible to get pregnant without having sex?’.

They were… low maintenance boys, Desmond supposed.

They only shout when they needed to get Desmond’s attention and they weren’t fussy over their drinks. They seemed a bit disgruntled every time Desmond had to change their diapers but they didn’t cry.

They rarely cry.

They only truly cry at times when they were asleep and Desmond believed that they would have nightmares during those times.

His boss was strangely alright with Desmond suddenly appearing with three babies, only looking at him with a frown as he told him that this should be his wake up call to use condoms.

Even his coworkers believed that the one day that Desmond said he was out because of ‘stomachache’ had been code for him freaking out because an ex had left him with three sons as a big fuck you or something.

The most support Desmond got from them though was letting the babies stay in the office.

He had to buy the collapsible playpen though but it was fine.

It gave him an excuse to get more shifts just to pay for his and his sons’ living expenses.

One of his coworkers asked why he didn’t just give them up for adoption. It was clear that he wasn’t ready for it.

And Desmond couldn’t explain it.

He wanted them.

They might have been a surprise but… they were his.

And…

Whenever he felt tired or felt like everything was becoming too much… just feeling them in his arms was enough.

It was enough.

.

.

Miles’ kids were strange boys.

They didn’t make any messes and they were polite… most of the time, anyway.

He knew it was bad to let Miles use his office to keep the kids. Hell, this bar was not a good place for kids and Miles should really just get a babysitter but he didn’t mind.

Miles was homeschooling them… in a way.

It wasn’t his place to give parenting advice anyway so he stayed out of whatever Miles planned for his kids. As long as they don’t hinder business, they could stay.

Altaïr was always on that second hand battered laptop that always made loud fan noises when it was turned on. They mostly kept it on because of it.

At first, he thought Altaïr was just playing in his laptop but… he was studying. Every tab he could see was either educational or… well… Wikipedia pages. Even the YouTube account Desmond shared with his sons were filled with educational videos, mostly something connected to history or engineering or technology.

Desmond liked to say that Altaïr was a genius and had been saving up to buy him a better laptop for the past year now.

Ezio, on the other hand, was more of a people’s person. He liked to talk to Desmond’s coworker before the start of their shift and he was a charming little bugger. Charming enough that many of Desmond’s coworkers started to give them food and juice boxes, saying they made too much or their parents or grandparents gave them too much food and there’s no more space in their fridge…

He was pretty sure that was Ezio’s plan from the very beginning. Build up a network of helpful adults.

Then there was Connor.

He had a different name that Desmond and his brothers use but it was hard to pronounce so he just let everyone else call him Connor.

He followed his father or one of his brothers most of the time, quiet by their side.

Observing.

He was the one who helped out the most, always following Desmond and helping him whenever they were doing their final clean up before closing for the day.

When he was with Ezio, he was always earnest with his questions, taking everything the adults tell him seriously.

When he was with Altaïr, he would lean close and read with him quietly. They would share the earbuds that they had with tape on the right wire because the casing had broken apart and watch videos quietly.

They were… nice kids.

Desmond was a good father dealt with a bad hand.

He supposed…

Buying Desmond a cheap laptop would be cheaper than raising his pay this Christmas.

Would save him more money in the long run, that’s for sure.

[lucy90712]

I heard requests so here I am. Bare with me this might not make sense. So readergf! x Jude Bellingham. Readergf! used to have a situationship with pedri until he told her he didn’t want anything serious. Fast forward to the Clasico she’s in the tunnels wishing Jude luck (obvi with a kiss) & before she goes to her seats, Jude yells to her “I love you” which makes Pedri whisper something to Gavi. Later in the game there’s a scuffle between Pedri & Jude bc Gavi tackled him but in his eyes, he’s just being a good friend. This then gets brought down in the tunnels when Jude is just trying to leave the match, gf tells pedri she’s with a real man which makes Jude fall more in love with her. I hate to make pedri & gavi look like this but I love Jude 😩

WC: 2.5k El Classico is always a big event as the rivalry between Real Madrid and Barcelona runs deep and has been going on for many years. Tonight will be my first time going to a Classico which is nerve wracking in itself but it is made so much worse by the choices I've made over the last year or so. Last year I was in a situationship so to say with Pedri, I really liked him and wanted to enter into a proper committed relationship with him but that's not what he wanted. He wasn't ready for a committed relationship and I wasn't willing to wait because as much as it hurt to let him go I couldn't be sure that Pedri would ever be ready or that when he was he'd want to be with me. The 'break up' was hard on me as I really did have feelings for Pedri and thought he could be the one for me but clearly it wasn't meant to be. 

A few months after calling things off with Pedri my friends made me come away with them on a girls trip to Germany. At the time I was really against it but now I can't imagine what my life would be like if I hadn't gone on that trip. While we were there I met a guy at a club we went to he bought me a few drinks and we talked all night. We exchanged phone numbers before we both went home but I thought I'd never hear from him again. To my surprise he actually text me the next day and wanted to take me out before I went home. To start with I was a bit hesitant as after leaving the club my friends told me that I was talking to Jude Bellingham another footballer and I wasn't sure if I was ready to date another one. After some convincing I went on the date and I'm so glad I did Jude was so sweet and he made me change my thoughts on love completely. 

Nearly a year later and Jude and I have been together for 10 months. I've never been happier than I have been in the last 10 months Jude is the best boyfriend and he treats me so well I couldn't ask for anything more. Over the summer Jude moved teams so now he plays for Real Madrid which has been great for our relationship as it has meant that we can be closer to each other as I moved there after my breakup with Pedri. I hadn't thought too much about the consequences of Jude's move until I was reminded about el Classico. Jude knows about my relationship with Pedri so when he asked if I wanted to go to the game he made it clear that if I didn't want to go he wouldn't mind but I know I have to get over everything someday and I want to support Jude so I decided to go. It will be my first time seeing Pedri since everything ended but Jude has reassured me that everything will be fine. 

Jude left for the game with the team early this morning leaving me to find my own way there as I can't go with the team at least not on the way there. Instead of driving the 5 hours from Madrid to Barcelona I am getting the train as it's quicker and a lot cheaper than flying or paying for fuel. On the train I was going to get on with some work or do a bit of reading to pass the time but instead I found myself spending far too much time thinking about the game. I couldn't stop thinking about what it would be like to see Pedri again after so long and what he might think if he sees me with Jude. I also worried about what might happen on the pitch I know it's usually an intense match and I don't want anything to happen to Jude out there. 

By the time I arrived in Barcelona it wasn't long until the match was due to start so I quickly made my way to the hotel I booked for the night as there are no trains back until the morning. I just about had time to freshen up a bit and change into my Bellingham shirt which Jude gave me especially for this game even though I already own quite a few. There wasn't time for me to do much else so I quickly brushed my hair and left the hotel to make my way to the stadium. It took a bit longer to get there than I'm used to as Barcelona aren't playing at camp nou at the moment but I still made it with a good amount of time until the match. 

As I arrived I text Jude to let him know I arrived safely because he made me promise to do so before he left this morning. Typically just after I made it to my seat he text me back and told me to come and see him before the warm up. I didn't particularly know where I was going but eventually I found my way down the tunnel and to Jude who was waiting for me outside the locker room. As soon as he saw me coming he opened his arms so that he was ready to engulf me in a hug as soon as I was within his reach. Jude hugged me so tightly that my feet came off the floor for a few seconds which I didn't expect but I should've as Jude always gives the best hugs. When he put me down he kept his arms around me while looking down at me with a big smile on his face. 

"Thank you for coming here I know you were nervous but having you here means the world to me" he said 

"You don't don't need to thank me I wanted to be here I'm not going to let the past get in the way of me being here for you" I said 

"I can't believe it's my first proper el Classico" Jude said 

"I know please be careful out there though things can get pretty feisty and I don't want you getting hurt" I warmed him 

"I promise I'll be careful you don't have to worry about me" he said 

"I always worry about you" I said 

"Well don't" he laughed 

Our conversation had to come to an end quite quickly as it was time for warm up but Jude being Jude couldn't leave me without pulling me in for a kiss. He gave me one kiss before I pulled him back in to give him a good luck kiss. Vini came out of the locker room just as we pulled away from each other so Jude told him to wait as he bid me goodbye and slapped my ass as he left which if I could've I would have told him off for. As I turned round to head back to my seat I saw Pedri coming towards me. I felt all of the blood drain from my face as he definitely saw me and Jude together. Even though I said I didn't want the past go get in the way of me coming here that didn't mean I wouldn't be thinking about it and panicking when I saw Pedri. I'm not sure why seeing him made me so anxious but it did it also brought back a lot of memories especially of the heartbreak the man just down the corridor caused me. I was frozen to the spot but as Pedri walked past he smiled at me so I weakly smiled back. 

By the time I made it to my seat I was glad it was just the warm up as I needed a few minutes to gather my thoughts but that's all I had as time seemed to disappear in seconds and before I knew it the match was starting. Barcelona scored early on but apart from that the first half was relatively uneventful there was a few bad tackles here and there but nothing crazy. The second half came around quickly though and about 15 minutes in Jude scored to make it level. Watching him score in el Classico and dedicate his goal to me filled me with an overwhelming sense of pride. I thought nothing could wipe the smile off my face until a few minutes later Gavi tackled Jude and before I knew it he was face to face with Pedri clearly arguing. As much as it could've been about anything instantly I was worried that Pedri had said something or was mad as Jude had dedicated his goal to me. They were pulled apart and the game went on with Jude scoring yet another goal to give Madrid the win in the end. 

While the team were celebrating I stayed in the stands to watch but once they started heading down the tunnel I slowly made my way there so I could meet Jude after he was ready so we could celebrate together. I knew I would be waiting a while so I looked at my phone while I stood there reading all of the tweets about the game and how well Jude played which put a big smile on my face. As I was stood there a lot of people walked back and forth and there was a lot of noise but I drowned it all out until I heard a familiar voice calling my name. Straight away I knew it was Pedri but I was still hoping that when I looked up someone else would be stood there but of course that didn't happen. There he was stood just a few feet in front of me with that smile that reminded me of our early days together when we were both having fun getting to know each other. Somehow being face to face with him wasn't quite as nerve wracking as I thought it would be sure I was a little anxious as to what he was going to say but I didn't feel like the world was going to end. 

"Hey it's been a while how have you been?" He asked 

"I've been good how have you been?" I asked 

"Yeah I've been good what brings you to the match?" He asked getting straight to the point 

"I'm here to support Jude I met him a while back and we've been together for nearly a year now" I said telling him the truth 

"I'm happy for you" he muttered 

"Look I know you have a new boyfriend now but I have to say I'm sorry for how I ended things it wasn't right for me to lead you on for that long and I really regret it you are such an amazing girl and I regret letting you go the way I did" he admitted 

"It's ok it hurt at the time but I'm over it now you did what was best for you and that's ok" I said 

"Does Jude make you happy?" He asked 

"He does he's really sweet and supportive and we're always on the same page overall we have a really healthy relationship" I said 

"I'm glad you're happy but I'm sorry I couldn't be the one to make you feel that way" he said 

"We just weren't meant to be you'll find your person one day Pedri and you can be just as happy as I am and you deserve it too" I said 

He unexpectedly gave me a hug before leaving probably to head home. For a few seconds I was drowning in my own thoughts which had clearly all be pushed to the back of my mind during my conversation with Pedri. Once I had my thoughts under control I felt so much better it was as if talking to him finally gave me a sense of closure. We were able to talk about what happened without emotions clouding our judgement or trying to be petty to get back at each other it was just a normal adult conversation. It was nice to hear him apologise and acknowledge that he didn't go about things in the best way as it sort of validated my feelings at the time. As much as Pedri caused me pain I don't hate him he's still a lovely person so as much as we weren't meant to be that doesn't mean he doesn't deserve a healthy relationship and I hope he knows that after our conversation. 

Just a few minutes later Jude finally came out of the locker room of course with a big smile on his face. I always love seeing him all happy after a win just his smile always brightens my day which I thought I'd need today but I'm actually ok. Jude hugged me and gave me a quick kiss before rambling on about the game like I wasn't sat watching it which he always does but I find it endearing. As he talked he kept remembering more things he wanted to tell me so we spent a good while stood in the corridor outside the locker rooms talking, well he was talking at me. Eventually he stopped talking but not before he told me he was allowed to stay the night here with me instead of going back so we got to head to my hotel together. Once we were in a taxi to the hotel Jude finally allowed me to get a word into the conversation. 

"Did you enjoy the game?" He asked 

"Yeah it was great you played so well I'm so proud of you" I said 

"I'm sorry I made you wait so long we were all celebrating and I just couldn't leave nothing happened while I was gone did it?" He asked 

"I did see Pedri we had a good conversation actually he apologised for treating me the way he did and I told him I'm happy with you now which he seemed to accept it felt good to talk to him I feel like that part of my life is completely over now" I said 

"That's good I'm glad you got closure on that chapter of your life" he said 

"I have to ask though what were you arguing about on the pitch?" I questioned 

"Oh it was nothing he was standing up for Gavi saying there was nothing wrong with his challenge but I disagreed nothing major I had a quick word with him after the game and all is good" he explained 

"Good I'm glad everyone can all get along now" I said 

By the time we made it to the hotel both of us were exhausted so we got straight into bed and went to sleep. I was actually able to get off to sleep really easily as unlike the last few days my mind was at rest there was no more anxiety or worry everything finally feels perfect. 

[willowser]

How much do I have to pay for more nerd Kiri?? CUZ I WILL

you see him again in the break room — which is odd, considering he's got his own on the other end of the building.

in the middle of reheating your lunch, staring dead-eyed into microwave as the seconds tick by, and then a little red blip is gracing the edges of your vision. when you look up from the 100-year-old creaking contraption, kirishima's back is turned — undoubtedly his back, considering the width — and his hands are fists at his sides and he's awkwardly shuffling back down the hall.

you pout a little, because you haven't been getting very far with him; all your attempts at flirting — both in person and over instant messenger — have gone either completely ignored or completely over his head, and you're starting to wonder if sero was just gassing you up as a prank. you wouldn't put it past him.

— but then he's back, facing you this time as he reenters the break room. the little wave he gives you is timid, as shy as the small up-turn of his lips.

"hey," you say conversationally, watching on as he nods and walks up to the cabinet above the microwave. kirishima peers inside for a long moment, like he can't find what he's looking for, though you have no idea what that could be. "forget something?"

"huh?" his eyes snap to you instantly, eyebrows raised. "no, no! i was just, uh, checking for, uh—" he shrugs then, taking a deep breath before offering you another smile. "how's the rubberband war going with hanta?"

"ugh, don't remind me," you roll your eyes as he laughs, quiet and cute. "it's 17 to 8 right now, and i'm surprised he hasn't taken out my eye yet."

"man," kirishima takes another long look into the cabinet before abandoning it to spin around and lean back against the counter. when he crosses his arms, you watch the material of his shirt strain over his biceps, the plush of his chest as he presses into his pecs. "you might wanna work on your aim."

"so i've been told," you stick your tongue out at him, lips curling when he has to look away in favor of scratching at the side of his thick neck, smiling at the floor. "you should help me, since you know how much of a menace he is."

"uh, yeah, i mean," he shrugs and pushing his glasses up his nose, having to blink when the lenses get too close to his long, dark eyelashes. "maybe i could make like, i don't know, a target or something on some sticky notes or—"

"no, lemme get some real practice in, by firing right at your cute little glasses here." when you gently tap the arm of them, his eyes shoot up to the ceiling, cheeks pink. all you get is a quiet uh. "c'mon, i'll make it worth your while. buy you a beer or something after work."

"nah, i can't—i can't let you do that."

you frown, feeling deflated once again. "why not?"

"because," the top button of his light blue shirt is undone and he fiddles with it for a moment, as he chews on his lip. "because i should be buying you the beer."

"okay," you grin and his eyes dart up, taking in the curve of your cheeks. "buy me one then."

"okay," the little laugh he lets out is full of nerves, but the smile on his face is charming, triumphant. "i've, uh, got dnd—or this, uh, game—sort of thing i play, or do, with my friends, but i can cancel!"

"oh, well, you have this 'game sort of thing that you do' at your house?" you grin again when he nods, cheeks red, and resist the urge to throttle him for being so fucking cute. "then why don't i have the beer at your place, so you don't have to cancel?"

"uh, no, no," kirishima's demeanor changes immediately as he stands straight, shaking his head as he stares down at his shoes. "no, it's, uh, kinda like—i don't know—weird, and i don't want you to have to sit through my nerd stuff."

"maybe i like nerd stuff," you bite your lip when he looks at you again, smothering another sultry little smile as his eyes zero in in your mouth. "dragons and elves and shit like that. after everybody leaves, we can play princess in a castle and you can be my knight in shining armor."

"uh," he laughs again, jittery, and takes a small step back when you try to lean into him. "i thought we were doing it—uh, doing the rubberband thing."

you can't help it; a small groan leaves your throat as you deflate. again. "kirishima, you're killing me here."

he exhales heavily, unable to even look at you as he speaks breathlessly. "sorry! uh, yeah, no, it starts at, um, 7 if you really wanna come."

"okay," you lightly tap your foot against his twice before turning back to the microwave, jabbing the numbers again because your food has surely gone cold at this point. "save me a seat, then."

"yeah, okay, i definitely will."

you can feel his eyes tracing over your profile, but if you have to look at his big, crimson eyes or pink cheeks any longer, you'll lose your mind, and so you direct your smile at the microwave. unceremoniously, he awkwardly shuffles around you, shoulders tense as he makes an abrupt exit.

— but he turns, suddenly, and when you look up, he's got one hand in his hair, gripping it lightly.

"did you really wanna do the princess thing or—i could, i don't know—" he turns away one last time when you can't help but to giggle, barely suppressing his own smile as you call out to him that, yes, you would love to do the princess thing, with him.

[joeys-babe]

Joey B Imagines: You’re My Best Friend

————————————————————————-

Summary: You and Joe have been best friends for as long as you both can remember, but maybe it’s more than friendship.

Warnings: fluff

Pairing: Joe Burrow x reader

————————————————————————-

*No specific date for this fic!*

Imagine getting dumped a week before your birthday.

Lucky me I don't have to imagine.

I was stupid to think things had been going even a little good with the guy I was seeing but I just wanted to prove my best friend wrong.

My best friend since diapers that is.

Having Joe Burrow as your best friend should be a flex but it was a curse.

We couldn't go out in public anymore and I stopped going to his games since his rookie year because of a rumor that I was his girlfriend.

Joe was super apologetic about it but refused to make a statement saying that we weren't together.

It ended up being a huge argument that wouldn't be resolved til weeks later… but now Joe and I were neck-deep into another quarrel.

My friend from high school told me that my ex-boyfriend from senior year had a mega glow-up. I reached out to him and though he had matured looks-wise… he was still the same douche he was years ago.

I was bored so why not entertain it for just a little bit?

That was a big mistake because I ended up developing real feelings for him.

That's when Joe and I had our argument.

He told me that it was a bad idea, but I told him he didn't know what was good for me. Both of us ended up saying words we wish we hadn't. Now Joe and I haven't talked for three weeks.

Our families would get together regularly but if Joe found out I was going he'd say he was busy, and vice versa.

Today was my 26th birthday, oh and that's another thing about Joe. He loved bringing up that he was older than me.

I had invited him to the party today even though we were in the middle of a fight because it wouldn't be the same without him nonetheless.

Joe hadn't sent a message back or even reacted to the message, just left it on read.

There was a pretty low chance of him even coming, but I wanted him to have the option to come if he wanted.

——

I sat in the kitchen, looking through the window over the sink at the backyard decorated and full of people.

Except the one person I wanted here, wasn't here.

“Sweetie…” - your mom walked up behind you and squeezed your shoulder

“He actually didn't come, Mom. Joe hasn't ever missed one of my birthday parties. Have I gone too far?” - you

“You haven't done anything wrong, honey. Have you told him about Chad breaking up with you? That might make him a little happy.” - your mom

“Why’d that make him happy?” - you rolled your eyes

“y/n… because he didn't want you guys together for a reason.” - your mom smiled

“He just didn't like Chad.” - you sighed

“I don’t think you're reading into this enough. I've seen the way you guys look at each other, and it's not in a best-friend way. Don't you think it's kinda odd he’s always gotten mad when you go on a date with a guy or get a boyfriend? There's something there that isn't purely platonic, and it's not one-sided either, y/n. I think he feels the same way about you that you feel about him.” - your mom

The way I feel about him.

The feelings that had slowly turned from friendship to finding him attractive to having a full-blown crush on him. It didn't happen in just a month or even a year, this has been going on since OSU.

I've never even thought about confessing to him because it just felt like a one-in-a-million chance that he felt the same way. I'm his best friend or was, there's no way he likes me.

My mom ended up making me go outside to socialize with my family and close friends who were basically family… minus one.

——

There was a part of me that had hope that Joe was going to come but now that I had changed out of my party outfit and was helping my mom clean up, all hope was gone.

I had my back turned to the door taking the Happy Birthday banner so when I heard the sliding door I figured it was my dad.

“Hope I'm not too late.” - Joe

My heart stopped when I heard the last voice I expected to hear. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my mom give me a wink before she walked back inside.

Turning around to face Joe, he stood in front of me with a tower of gifts in his hands.

“Parties already over Joe might as well just go home.” - you

“Listen… I had full intentions of coming but I was working out and l lost track of time. There was this pee-wee football team who all wanted pictures with me and I gave them a little speech. Anyway, the moral of the story is… I’m so sorry that I'm late and have been such a jerk the past couple of weeks. I hope you'll forgive me because it's not fun going a long time without talking to you. Happy Birthday… by the way.” - Joe

Without saying a word I took the gifts from Joe’s hands and placed them on the table I was cleaning off.

“I deserve th-” - Joe

Before he could finish his sentence I engulfed him in a huge hug.

“I missed you.” - you

Joe was tense at first but relaxed and cradled the back of my head against his strong chest.

“I missed you too… so much.” - Joe

“I’m glad you came.” - you mumbled

“Me too.” - Joe

We stayed there for a moment, way too long of a hug for ‘best friends’.

“I have something to tell you.” - you

“Me too, but can I go first?” - Joe

I nodded and Joe forged ahead, our arms still around each other.

“I’m sorry about how I acted about Chad, as long as you're happy then I’m happy, and if he makes you feel that way then so be it. Maybe you're right too, maybe he has changed. I shouldn't judge someone off of their past.” - Joe

“Joe I appreciate your apology but he broke up with me a week ago, that's what I was going to tell you.” - you

“Oh. I'm sorry… I hope it wasn't messy. Are you okay?” - Joe

“I’m fine. Just sucks that yet another guy has driven me closer to losing faith in the male species.” - you

“Maybe you're just not dating the right guys. There's someone out there who will show you true love, I'm sure of it.” - Joe

His words made me feel hopeful and sad at the same time. Joe believed that there was someone out there who was right for me, but I wanted it to be him.

“Thanks, Joe.” - you

“Mhm. He might be closer to you than you think…” - Joe

I looked up at him with a skeptical look on my face, but he looked serious.

“What do you mean?” - you gulped

Joe tugged at my waist and looked down at me with such a twinkle in his eyes.

“y/n… you're my best friend.” - Joe

“Mhm…” - you

“I need to tell you the truth then.” - Joe

“Joe… what?” - you

“I wasn't pissed off that you went out with Chad because I thought he'd hurt you… I was pissed because you wanted to go out with him.” - Joe

“Wh… what?” - you

“For as long as I can remember I've just been your best friend, the guy you go to complain about other guys, and I can't take it anymore.” - Joe

He tried to read my expression but when he got nothing, he dropped his arms from my waist and nervously played with his wristbands as he kept going.

“I know it sounds like a stupid Hallmark movie line… but I don't want you to keep getting hurt when there's someone who can treat you so much better right at your fingertips.” - Joe

“Who, Joe? You keep saying that but won't say who.” - you sighed

“Me! Me, y/n. I've been hopelessly in love with you for years while I just stood to the side and watched you look for love in the wrong faces. This might ruin our friendship but it's not fair if I don't tell you… I want to be more than just your best friend.” - Joe

My jaw dropped open as my heart rate rapidly increased. He felt the same way?

“You’re in love with me?” - you

“Yes, and I'm sorry if that makes things awkward… I just really want to show you that not all men are pieces of shit.” - Joe

I stood up on my tiptoes and crashed my lips into his. Joe was taken aback at first but kissed back with just as much passion.

Joe wrapped his strong arms around my waist and held me against him as we kissed. Neither one of us wanted to be the one to break away first.

In the end, I did. I needed to say those words back to him.

“Joe, I'm in love with you too.” - you

“Yeah?” - Joe smiled

“Have been for a long time, I just was worried you didn't feel the same way and it would ruin our friendship to confess.” - you

He flashed that perfect smile at me and laced his fingers with mine.

“Can I kiss you again?” - Joe

“Go for it.” - you smiled

Joe pushed me into him by my hips and my hands went to his chest.

“Everything okay out her- oh my!” - your mom

Though I'm sure Joe heard her just as well as I did, we didn't break away from each other and went on claiming each other’s lips.

When Joe and I finally did disengage from our kiss, we both laughed as he wiped his salvia off of my lips.

My arms wrapped around his middle and I laid my head on his shoulder.

“So I guess I can ask you what I've been dreaming about asking you for years.” - Joe

“Mhm.” - you grinned

“Wanna go out with me tomorrow?” - Joe

“As friends?” - you played dumb, just wanting to hear him say it

“I was thinking more of… boyfriend and girlfriend because we can skip the get-to-know-you stage right? Only if that's okay with you…” - Joe

I pulled my head away from his chest and kissed his soft, freshly shaven cheek.

“That sounds perfect to me.” - you looked into those gorgeous blue eyes you've come to be obsessed with

“Will you be my girlfriend?” - Joe

“Only if you'll be my boyfriend.” - you

“Sounds like a deal.” - Joe

Joe and I stepped away from each other before we shook hands in agreement, something we'd done to solve things since we were little.

We laughed together as we walked up to the back door hand in hand, happy that we'd probably resolved the arguing for the time being.

As we opened the door it revealed both of our moms standing there in a pose that looked like they had their ears on the door just a few seconds ago.

“Yes?” - you

“Can we help you?” - Joe

“What's going on with you two?” - Robin

“Yeah, what she said. What does this hand-holding mean?” - your mom

Joe and I exchanged a look and nonchalantly shrugged before he spoke up.

“We’re dating.” - Joe

“What?!” - your mom’s in sync

“How’d this happen? You guys have been fighting for weeks.” - your mom

“It just kinda happened.” - you shrugged

Robin and my mom looked at each other skeptically.

“Are you sure you guys aren't rushing things just a little bit?” - Robin

“Mom, I've never been more sure about anything else in my life.” - Joe

I looked at him with a surprised look on my face, he only winked with a wide grin and reassuringly squeezed my hand.

“Me too.” - you

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Authors note: on the 7th day of Christmassssss y'all got whatever this is. I really wanted this to end in smut but I need to control myself. 💀

Request for this fic; thank you anon! 🤍

[lionheartedmusings]

as the pieces start to slot together (and i mean... barely, we have like two corners) it's becoming to me more and more apparent that everything we're seeing from q!bad is nothing more than a very elaborate game of chess that he's forced everyone into, and i have thoughts, especially regarding two things he said to q!bagi yesterday that really, really stood out... and something he hasn't said that speaks volumes.

let me preface by saying that q!bad is a liar, a gaslighter, the man is built on lies and deflection — he almost always tells you the truth sandwiched between two lies and leaves you to wonder what the fuck just happened. he's slippery, he's deceitful, and he doesn't make the error of thinking he's the smartest person in the room all the while knowing full well he can pull all the strings he needs mostly undetected.

q!bad is also not someone who measures his love by how much he trusts people — those two things are separate to him to an extent, he can love you with his whole everything and not trust you. the only people he trusts are the eggs — i'd go as far as to say he doesn't even trust skeppy fully. take q!etoiles for example! someone who's always been on q!bad's corner but who he told to his face he can't trust fully because he's too powerful.

his trust issues run so deep that he doesn't even trust himself. he expressed that during the presidential election arc, and he's questioned if he's the one helping the feds subconsciously — q!bad hasn't cleared himself out of his own suspect list, and i need people to understand that.

q!bad is paranoid and cautious and every move he makes is weighed against the cost of making it, and how that could cause security and safety issues. it's exhausting, by the way, and i will go into heavy detail about that at a later date — how much it weighs on him to always think of the worst and prepare and anticipate and fight to prevent it.

still, it's... pretty apparent when q!bad is telling the truth if you know him enough — he does it when he doesn't say enough. if he's being cryptic, if his voice drops and he seems blaze about something unimportant... he's telling you a lot more than he's letting on, and he's hoping you'll catch on. i find it fascinating that he chose to do that with q!bagi yesterday.

"my only goals are to find my kids and to leave the island" is such a rich morsel of where q!bad is going with this? we know he's sussing out someone who is knowingly or unknowingly working with the federation, but i don't think that's all — i think he knows very well what he plans to do when he finds that person, and also knows how he plans on using that info to get everyone out safely.

he also blatantly (in q!bad speech) told q!bagi that everything he's doing, he's doing for a reason and that that reason is ultimately a positive end goal for everyone. he was telling her that he's got a purpose, he's not crazy or erratic on a whim — he's calculated. i don't know if he chose q!bagi because he knew she wouldn't get it but he hoped she'd find it curious, or if he just needed to talk at someone, but it really stood out to me.

the second thing that stood out was his surprise that q!bagi had even trusted him before, and that knowing that was the highlight of his day.

now, i genuinely don't think q!bad measures his love / care in terms of how much he trusts other people, but he measures his own worth in how much he's trusted, relied on, and how much he can do for others. for him to blatantly admit how that little admission of trust even if it's gone now means so much to him? my man's struggling big time (we knew that already) but enough that he's vocalizing it.

but really can we be surprised? i've talked about how i didn't feel like q!bad was sorry for kidnapping / torturing ron and i've let him cook and changed my mind on the subject... kind of.

i think q!bad is remorseful and sorry for what he's having to do, more than of what he's doing. he's sorry he's having to go to this length, he spoke candidly about how much he hated hurting his friends and how he wasn't sure how many more he'd have to hurt in the process, he hates that for his plan to succeed (and everything is always "going according to plan") he has to do these things. he wishes he didn't have to.

he's not sorry for what he's doing, but he is. he's sorry he's hurting people, but he's not sorry that his plan has to be seen through — he's working towards the big picture, and he can't stop now. he knew what he was getting into, and there's no jumping ship now. he decided to burn himself and his bridges for the benefit of his children and his family (and q!bad's family is much more extensive than he lets on) and it's his cross to bear now.

he also doesn't trust himself, like i said before.

here's the thing about q!bad — he will talk in circles, alone, for hours. he'll run scenarios over and over in his head, ruminate, theorize and discard possibilities to exhaustion... it's the things he says once and doesn't mention again that are scary, because he locks them down in his head where it's safe.

he's noticed the federation is incredibly lenient with him — he said it offhandedly once, alone, he said "chat, have you noticed that all they ever give me is a slap on the wrist" — he knows. he knows something's up, he knows something's wrong with that picture.

he doesn't trust himself. he'll get to the bottom of this whole thing if it kills him, and by god if he has to be the most hated man on this island by the end of it... so be it. it's a small sacrifice to make for the children that he loves, and for their many families that he considers friends.

never forget that q!bad is, above all else, the man who lives in service of others... it's just that sometimes, that service isn't items and help and safety.

we also need to acknowledge that what q!bad is doing is most likely a direct parallel to what q!cellbit did with the regret arc but i don't think people are ready for that conversation yet

[cerastes]

Hey. It's been a while. I think it's right to update you on stuff so tl;dr I'm probably not going to be around for some time, and if I am, it'll be in a diminished capacity, but if you're interested, do check under the cut. I'll also immediately state that I am not in any dangerous situation, it's other stuff, but I'll immediately dispel that before the cut just in case you just wanted to know that in particular.

Let's talk for a bit.

Long story short, the economy here is in shambles. The idea was for me to already have a new job, but that's not gone according to plan. I've been eating into my savings for a while now, and the people that told me that I had a job lined up for me September or at the latest October, meaning, this month, have been ghosting me. It seems to not be an option anymore, and no explanation was ever given to me. A shame, because it came from a place of relative trust.

This has eaten away at my nerves somewhat, and though it is the month of my birthday, I can't help but notice that, between the economy being this bad here, how hard it's been to land another job, and the fact that I'm eating into my savings, well, it's got me more than a bit worried. I'm not in any immediate danger of losing the roof over my head, or starving, or anything like that, but after a few months of "well, my savings take yet another hit this month with no end in sight", it's been rather rough, you'll understand, and it's compounded a bit. For just a second, and not as a primary, secondary, or even tertiary plan, more like a twenty-eighth measure if anything, I did entertain the dark idea of maybe asking for a bit of help here, and the moment that thought came up, I realized, "Ok, this is truly and well affecting me, I never want to do that", because, again, it's not like I'm in any immediate danger of homelessness or anything that grave, but it's been weighting on me enough that, even as a distant glint in the horizon of an idea, I did consider it. I don't want to sound like I'm blowing my own horn here, but for over a decade that I've had this blog, and the community/following/whatever you want to call it that has grown around it, I've never once asked for something like monetary help, because I think that can be a slippery slope. I've seen people far bigger than me, and some smaller, too, get addicted to asking for donations or help, or simply start taking it for granted when they ask for such a thing. My friends will tell you I writhe in agony when I receive a gift such as a game or something over the mail. My logic is that I don't need it, not in a proud way, but rather, in a "I wish you would spend this money on yourself instead, or on someone that truly needed it". With this in mind, I realized that, for me to even slightly consider that as an option, for the first time in my life, it meant that it was biting away at me far, far more severely than I thought. It's translated to other parts of my life as of late; I've not been depressed or anything, but I've felt this itch, this remarkably implacable feeling of "my man, you don't deserve to be taking it easy right now, something has to change, progress needs to be made".

I went out to wander for a few days, then arrived at my cousin's farm. He and his wife live a humble, hard working life, he invited me to stay for a while, I accepted, it was real nice, we hanged out, went exploring creeks and mountainsides while knocking back a few beers, the whole shebang for two guys that grew up in the middle of nowhere. Anyhow, it's true that the whole exposition that was the previous paragraph is something at play, but I also just... Haven't really wanted to be online at all. I don't want to check anything, read anything, and I feel a deep sense of alienation that I've not really felt in a long time. I suppose this is one of those good ol' Bro Is Going Through It, if we're to summarize it in a few words. It's easy for me to dispel negative thoughts and bounce back normally, because I've done a great deal of personal building and homework on knowing myself inside out, but not even this black belt in Drimobrain has helped this time around, and well, it bothers me, obviously, bwahaha. It's the first time in a few years that I really sincerely do not understand what's up with me, and while it's not really something I would consider me being rock bottom or anywhere near those depths, I do think I'm still below surface level, which is something I don't admit to easily, but have no choice to. I would love to be able to give this malaise shape and firmness through written or spoken word, but right now, it's a work in progress.

What bothers me the most is the sense of alienation I spoke of before: It makes no sense for me to feel this way, I'm treated with love and kindness every day, no one's silencing me in any way, I don't deal with barbs or hostility. So why is it that that's how I feel? Or perhaps it's something that feels similar, but I've no clue what it is, so I'm compounding it with alienation?

Regardless, it's all compounded into me just... Not wanting to be online. In the words of a friend of mine, "Dreamer has a fetish for self-development and growth", and, well, yeah, she's got that right despite the wording, I like to feel as if I'm improving every day and becoming better every day, even if slightly, and right now I feel like I'm just degenerating. Is it because my mood has been sour overall? Maybe. It might as well just be the fact that I Just Don't Want To Be Online For A While, and capricious clown that I am, if I want to do something, I do it, and if I don't want to do something, I don't do it. I'm tied to nothing and no one except my desire and drive to do or not do things. I can't change that, nor do I want to change that. And in this case, my heart's said to me, "fuck going online, go out, do things, try to get a job".

I also almost got recruited into something fucking vile that I thankfully noticed in time to avoid, but that's a story for another time.

There you have it. Am I leaving the internet/blue website forever? No, of course not, I like it here. Are things hard right now? They are, to be honest. Are they the worst it could be? Not at all. Do I have complete clarity of what's up with this fog inside of my head? No, and that bother me quite a bit. Are things going to be alright? Yeah, I think they will be.

I do regret it's in October of all months that this is going on, because it's where my shitposting power is at its apex due to my birthday, but hey, things happen, not necessarily for a reason, but they can be handled in such a way that it gives them meaning. I'm a fervent believer in that. I'm sorry this isn't the update you may have been hoping for, full of Lucina cosplayer blowjobs and other such hijinks, but hey, they can't all be Rainbow Road, haha.

So in case we don't see each other for a while, I hope you're all doing fine and dandy. I'm alive, I'm trying to be well, and most importantly, most fundamentally, most quintessentially,

I stay silly.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not paying for my fiancee's trip?

(Sorry mod, sending this again as I forgot to add an important context detail)

This is going to be long, I'm so sorry!

Okay, so I (23M) am engaged to a very wonderful fiancee (27NB). She's fantastic, and I want to make it very clear that our relationship is great - we have good communication, we never argue, we're always on call without getting tired of each other, etc etc. There is just one issue we have - her financial habits.

For context, I am disabled and can't work due to both mental and physical health issues, so I'm on disability benefits. She can and does work.

We're long-distance (she's in America and I'm in the UK), and we've been dealing with it pretty well so far. At the beginning of our relationship, we agreed that before we got to the point of talking about moving in with each other etc. we would need to have her visit me here at least once to meet my family and get used to how things work here (as she wants to move here), and I would need to visit her at least once to do the same there re: meeting her parents etcetera.

The agreement was that I'd pay for her to come here, and then when it was my turn she'd pay for my visit there so it was fair.

She first visited me about a year and a half ago and came over here for two weeks. I paid for her plane tickets, our transport everywhere (we don't have cars), the AirBNB we stayed in, etc. This ran me about £2k, which was all I had at the time, and I didn't have enough left over to pay for her food on top of that, so I asked if she could cover her own food costs while she was here. This caused a bit of an issue at the time as she was very clearly frustrated at having to do it, and would make comments like "Ugh I wanted a new computer but now I have to save for this trip", "I'm having to sacrifice so much to pay for this" and it made me feel incredibly invalidated, like I was covering everything else and also sacrificing a lot to pay for everything else for us but the one thing I'd asked her to help with was too much. We had a conversation about it at the time and she apologised and said she'd work on it, so we moved on.

Plans changed a bit very early this year, as I was due to get surgery and the friend who was supposed to accompany me there dropped out last minute. I had no one else nearby to turn to and I couldn't go alone (it was the kind of surgery where I would need someone around for at least 1-2 weeks afterwards to help me move around and do daily tasks). As a last ditch effort I asked my fiancee to fly over again and help me out, and I paid for this again which I was completely fine with doing as the trip was a favour for me and it was unplanned from her end. This was another ~£2k.

So cut to summer this year. This was when I was supposed to have my visit over to America. She, at this point, was making pretty good money at a school job. However, when I asked her if we could finalise the plans and buy tickets, she told me that she had no money.

This is where I explain that she's really, REALLY bad with money. She impulse-buys clothes and things for her room etc., she plays gacha games like Genshin Impact and spends quite a lot of money on 'pulls' and the gambling mechanic, things like that. It turned out that through the whole time of having this job she'd been basically spending money as soon as she got it and she now had nothing for the trip. I was admittedly frustrated with her (especially as she initially lied to me and told me she hadn't spent money on games etc. and then later confessed that it IS where the money had gone), but we agreed we could push back the trip to winter/Christmas-time to give her more time to save, and honestly I didn't really mind because I've never spent Christmas/New Year with anyone before, so shifting the visit to over those days would be a nice experience.

However, soon after this she was fired from her job for too many call-outs/absences. For the next few months, she didn't get another job - she said she was doing all she could and was applying for, but I often got the impression that she wasn't and was sort of throwing out an application every few weeks and then writing it off as 'done', which I could be completely misinterpreting so take that with a grain of salt. I kept pushing her to get a job so we could get the trip sorted out and I know she got kind of frustrated with me a few times for it.

I ended up giving up the closer we got to the time and offered to just cover it again if she could pay me back when she did get a job, and she agreed.

Unfortunately, after this I was rendered homeless due to my abusive home situation. I was fortunate enough to be offered government housing and I now have an apartment in town, but it's completely unfurnished (literally all that's in it is a single bed and a cooker, there's no flooring or anything yet). I now have to put all the money I have saved (about £3k) towards getting flooring (which is a little over £1k by itself), furnishings, getting the walls painted, sorting out gas and electricity, etc. I'm also now paying the bills for this apartment. As a result, there's no possible way I could afford to cover the trip anymore myself.

It looked like things were getting sorted because my fiancee got another job recently. It's pretty well-paying, she seems to enjoy it so she's not calling out, and she kept prompting me to talk details of the trip with her so it felt like it was all getting figured out and she was ready to finalise it.

Then today I asked her how much money she had ready for it and she said... $15. I'm genuinely lost on how she still hasn't saved any money, she claims she used it all on "bills" but she doesn't pay rent or cover any housing costs as she still lives with her parents, so I don't understand at all where it's all going. We have less than a month before the trip is supposed to happen, nothing is sorted, we still have no clue where we'd be staying, no plane tickets have been purchased, and now it's looking a lot like it's going to have to be pushed back AGAIN to next year.

I thought about trying to pay for it again, because I DO really want that Christmas and New Year with her. Delaying it again would also mess up our future plans, as the plan was to get this trip to America and meeting her family done this year, then spending the first half of next year on the Visa process and then the latter half getting her actually moved over. It also means I would have to delay my college education, as I was going to start my course early next year, which I wouldn't be able to do if the trip is next year instead as it would require me to take weeks off.

If I tried, I probably could cover it - I need to spend the ~£1k on flooring as that's already arranged, but I could technically use the remaining £2k to fund the trip. However, this would mean my house would remain unfurnished and barely habitable for months longer. It's not so bad if I know she'd be able to pay me back quickly, but the reality is that I don't know how long it would take for me to see the money back.

Part of me also feels like she's kind of expecting me to give in and pay for it last minute in order to not delay it, because I offered before and I was willing to pay for the last two trips. But it's just so depressing and frustrating, because it feels like I keep giving things up and putting things into these trips and getting her over here, and trying to get it back from her is just like running into a wall.

We've talked about it before, but she insists there's nothing more she can do, she's trying as hard as she can, and that she's upset about it too. I just don't know what to do about it anymore.

So I guess my question is, AITA for complaining about the trip, missing Christmas/New Year and pushing her on money and nagging her about what she does with hers instead of just taking the L and covering the trip again until she can pay me back?

What are these acronyms?

[mcflymemes]

MISCELLANEOUS SENTENCE PROMPTS *  collection #6

i'm sipping wine in a robe.

you look like hell.

i tried to warn you.

it's hard to let you go.

i can't sleep without you.

this life is still worth living.

was it good for you?

when will our eyes meet?

i threw it out the window.

i get by, but i'm tired of myself.

so many things were left unsaid.

i want to spend my life with you.

you seem very well.

i'm much too young to die.

i told you not to get lost in the wild.

you're tired of me.

in my mind, you're mine forever.

if you're leaving, i gotta know why.

come on over. i'll adore you.

put on the dress you wore the night we met.

i had to close down my mind.

they'll never understand.

i told you i could never love somebody else, but i lied.

did you ever like it then?

i will never be set free.

darkness brings evil things.

it's out of my control.

i know what it takes to move on.

they're dead wrong. i know they are.

i'm a shoulder you can cry on.

am i not the one you're dreaming of?

i told you i'd be coming back again for you, but i'm not.

every word that i say is coming straight from the heart.

there's so much love we could be making.

yeah, i'm drinking again.

don't laugh. you'll make me cry.

i've got something to say.

when can i touch you?

you smell like death.

i never thought i could act this way.

take me back to the night we met.

just wait until i catch my breath.

you can run but you can't escape.

go on, baby. hurt me tonight.

shut the door, baby. don't say a word.

i can't forget this evening.

i am coming for you.

i'm here just waiting for you.

you've got holes in your clothes.

what the hell am i supposed to do?

i had a vision tonight that the world was ending.

i would stand in line for this.

i don't even know who i was last night.

i'm not trying to be your hero.

what if the world dies with the sunrise?

just you wait and see. believe me.

anything you want. any place you want.

people love it when you lose.

i didn't have much to say.

i'm leaving this place behind.

if you ever get lonely, please let me know.

now it's only fair that i should let you know.

how i hate to see you like this.

i know how it feels to lie.

you make me feel so brand new.

i hate to bug you in the middle of dinner.

i wish nothing but the best for you both.

every time you try to fix me, i know you'll never find that missing piece.

there is no way you can deny it.

those days are through.

it's a lovely day today.

you don't want to know how far it's gone.

soon i will be free.

i can't live if living is without you.

this is not what i had planned.

all we need is a little time.

this is not the end.

put your arms around me.

things look peaceful.

you changed the game.

this was never meant to last.

i know it's crazy, but it's true.

can you feel it?

i feel brave and daring.

i had to close down everything.

i'm so in love with you.

won't you believe me?

wish i had the strength to stand.

when will this strong yearning end?

they say i won't last too long on broadway.

show me where you've been.

you were always sure of yourself.

i thought it felt right.

after last night, i think i'm in love with you.

i can't forget your face as you were leaving.

the best that you can do is fall in love.

i lost friends along the way.

there are rules.

the hardest part of ending is starting again.

when will i hold you again?

if you ever want to see my face again, i want to know.