#I'd let them hit then kill me afterwards

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

Charlie: "So! How DID talking with Carmilla go?"

Vaggie: "Uhh..."

Charlie: (laughs) HA! Yeah- the giant weapons delivery kinda gives me an idea it went preeeetty good, but was it nice? Did you have fun? Did you find out how angels die? Did you two have TEA??"

Vaggie: "It was nice I had fun I know how angels die and no there wasn't any tea."

Charlie: "None? Phooey."

Vaggie: "Did you have any uh, tea in... Cannibal Town?"

Charlie: "None! No finger foods either! They were only a snack for the eyes- you can kiss me and double check, if you want to~"

Vaggie: "Tempting." (chuckles) "And distracting. Let's cover the angel killing stuff first, okay babe?"

Charlie: (sigh) "If we HAVE to..."

Vaggie: "I'll make it quick. You know Carmine's fancy dance slippers?"

Charlie: "Shiny!"

Vaggie: "Made from heavenly steel, turns out."

Charlie: "Oooooh!"

Vaggie: "She used them to kick the head off an Exorcist, last extermination day."

Charlie: "Oh wow. NOT the scenario I was expecting."

Vaggie: "Yeah, she told me about it while kicking me in the face with them-"

Charlie: "SHE WHAT"

Vaggie: "-and even when she explained the whole 'trying to protect her daughters' thing, internally I was still like, dancing someone to death is one of least practical ways of killing-"

Charlie: "She kicked you in the head with her angel killing slippers?!?"

Vaggie: "-long fight scene cut short, she makes it work. But I'm still sticking with my spear for the battle."

Charlie: "VAGGIE!!!"

Vaggie: "I don't care what Carmine or anyone else says. Spears are-"

Charlie: "SHE COULD'VE KILLED YOU!"

Vaggie: "...I know? That's why you asked me to talk with her?"

Charlie: "......."

Charlie: "I think. I'm gonna be sick."

Vaggie: "Aw babe." (brushed back charlie's bangs) "Cannibal Town finger foods finally catching up with you?"

Charlie: "No. Yes. They're not helping but it's more of a 'if my girlfriend had gotten killed, where would the finger of blame be pointed at' kinda thing."

Vaggie: "Sweetie no..."

Charlie: "Sweetie YES. I sent you there."

Vaggie: "And if Carmine had gotten my head, it would've been my fault for being so out of practice and shit at fighting."

Charlie: "UGH."

Vaggie: "Thanks for that, by the way."

Charlie: "What? For WHAT? Saying 'oh hey Vaggie guess what you can die!' and sending you to the Overlord who can kill you????"

Vaggie: "For keeping me out of practice at fighting."

Vaggie: (smooches gf)

Vaggie: "I like kissing you way better, honestly."

Charlie: "... well... well maybe you could still use some practice."

Vaggie: "With the kissing?"

Charlie: "Both. Kissing and fighting. I want you alive at the end of the battle so we can do more smooching afterwards. Okay?"

Vaggie: "Okay."

Charlie: "You'll get better at the fighting again- no more getting hit in the head with heavenly steel?"

Vaggie: "I'll do some more sparring with Carmine. No more heavenly steel headshots."

Charlie: "You promise?"

Vaggie: (smiling) "I promise."

-after the battle-

Charlie: "Mm. Hmm?" (pausing mid kiss) "I think one of your teeth are loose?" (glowering) "Vaggie. Did you get hit."

Vaggie: (groaning) "Table. Head slam. Lute."

Charlie: "Fuck that bitch."

Vaggie: "If you mean fuck her up, then yeah, I tried."

Charlie: "Heheh. I saw her afterwards. I'd say you did pretty good." (kiss again) "Dang it, yep- It's your upper right incisor." (pouts) "Boo. I liked that one a lot."

Vaggie: "If it falls out you can have it."

Charlie: "Really!?"

Vaggie: "If it falls out while we're kissing, please don't swallow it."

Charlie: "I guess we COULD just stop kissing for a sec to actually check on the whole loose tooth situation."

Chaggie: "....."

Vaggie: "Or, you could kiss-"

Charlie: "OR I COULD KISS IT BETTER!!!"

Chaggie: (smooching resumes)

[taetr4ck]

Not a request but WHICH SKZ/NCT MEMBER WOULD YOU FIGHT GO!

a/n : i just opened my tumblr after a good whole week and this is what i first read FUCK IT WE BALL ! doing all of them because i feel a bit silly today

contents under the cut

STRAY KIDS

BANG CHAN - no. this is self explanatory tbh. i would straight up ask him to marry me

LEE KNOW - i would. but in return he would tell me how much my parents wrecked my whole being so i'll end up tearing up in the corner

CHANGBIN - one slap from this man and i'm already out of this world. he can literally slap me and the next second i'm already in the fifth dimension. no words needed. i would not fight him.

HYUNJIN - i would and then fall in love in the process

HAN - how could i fight this man ? RUTHLESS.

FELIX - i don't have the heart to tbh. i'll cry before i even land my first hit

SEUNGMIN - big yes tbh. i feel like he's the perfect person to pick a fight with. our competitive ass won't give up so easily unless one of us isn't breathing anymore LMFAO

JEONGIN - this man would stab me before i even know it

NCT 127

TAEIL - one glare from this man and i'm already shivering. 50/50.

JOHNNY - i should be punished for forgetting to put him here. what was i thinking !!!! anyway !! i feel like he would be the one to initiate the fight LMFAO he would straight up come to me and just do a ‘let’s do a square’ ‘aight bet’ kind of interaction tbh he would be the funniest person to pick a fight with. i would fight him. he’d be my sparring buddy afterwards

TAEYONG - bro he's about to do his military service leave him alone 😭🙏🏻 poor bubu i would not fight him

MARK - i would. then we will start throwing rap verses (special mention to jopping) like we didn't almost stabbed each other earlier

JAEHYUN - one punch and my skull is already cracked in half. nope

YUTA - i would just straight up kiss him tbh i would not last for five seconds looking at him

DOYOUNG - he would verbal abuse me tbh that's enough to wreck me

HAECHAN - one michael jackson merch for him and he's wrecked so easily. i would fight him.

JUNGWOO - boy this man would bring a baseball bat even though we agreed to have a fist fight. cheater. i would fight him

NCT DREAM

RENJUN - his glare is enough to kill me. 50/50.

JENO - man idc this is jeno we are talking about !!!! he can punch me in the face and i would not bulge !!!!

CHENLE - man he is the worst person to fight. one word from him and i’m already having a mental breakdown. he would unwrap every inch of my traumas from childhood to present. i won't risk it 🫡

JAEMIN - no because we will have our silly little tea party while talking about cute and pretty things

JISUNG - the idea itself makes us both want to cry

WAYV

KUN - he's too good to pick a fight with. my conscience could never

TEN - big yes. put those slutty muscles to work boy !

HENDERY - we would have a fight in valorant and i'd lose. can't risk my reputation for that smh (kidding)

XIAOJUN - this man would straight up launch at me like a fuckin dog. i would fight him (affectionately)

WINWIN - no. i would ask him to be his gf. no explanation needed

YANGYANG - we would have a pillow fight and the next second he's already holding a brick. i said let's have a pillow fight not give me a fucking concussion 😭🙏🏻

should i add my taglist here omg

⋆ taetr4ck, est may 2023. / requests open

[viridescent-din]

can you do joel x reader with the reader having to use their safewird? i'd love to see how joel reacts

18+, pretty intense rough sex that warrants the use of safe word under the cut. this has the potential to be very triggering.

thanks for being this blog's first request <3

Joel is so goddamn pent up.

There's too much happening all at once - too much death, too much responsibility. Joel is barely holding himself together, feeling the weight of being the person that you and Ellie follow. Even worse, being the man you depend on.

He needs an outlet. You're in his bed, just like you always are, and Ellie is asleep downstairs and safe. Jackson can give Joel some type of reprieve, even if the hesitation in Tommy's embrace was the last straw for Joel.

Joel, for the first time since you've met him, snaps.

Sex with Joel isn't always - or even often - soft. It's gritty and real, usually rushed. Neither of you have daily access to a shower, and half the time you fuck it's in a frenzy because one of you (almost always you) has nearly been killed. You're used to Joel being borderline impersonal. He's good about it though, always checking to make sure you're okay, always cleaning you up afterwards.

This time, Joel doesn't even prep you.

He watches you, ass in air and on the bed on all fours. You feel his hand ghosting over the skin of your cheeks before he unzips his pants, takes himself out, and enters you dry with a single thrust.

You cry out immediately, the burn instant. The sheets muffle the sound. Even with the ache, there's a glimmer of pleasure mixed in, that nice feeling that comes with being full. Joel warms you from the inside out.

You turn your head, glancing over your shoulder to look at Joel. He scowls, placing his hand on the nape of your neck and pressing your face into the sheets.

"Don't look at me," Joel practically growls. You manage to make some type of noise of agreement from this position, even though Joel just made it infinitely harder to breath. He releases his hand, and you gasp for air. He begins to pick up the pace, relentlessly slamming into you. The force is so much your temple hits the headboard, making you even more disoriented. You whimper as Joel keeps thrusting, fingers digging into your hips. Tears begin to prick at the corners of your eyes, and it makes you unbearably upset at yourself. What are you crying over? You grip the sheets, and Joel notices. "That's my girl," he says, sounding distant. "That's it. You know me."

The praise feels sudden, and almost chases away the doubt stirring in your chest. It does nothing for the pain, though. Joel grabs your hands, pinning them above your head, and you start to feel stifled. Your own arms feel like a cage, trapping your head. The sheets bunch around your face, making it hard to breathe again. You're completely naked, but Joel is practically fully clothed, and the collision of his belt buckle with the back of your thigh begins to sting. You can already tell you're going to have a welt. You feel raw, too. You're not used to Joel without spit or your own arousal to make sex more comfortable.

"Joel..." You start to say. You hear him muttering to himself behind you. "Joel," you manage with a bit more force. His movements stutter, but don't stop.

"Hmm? What is it?" You wait for the pet name, for baby or darlin, but it never comes.

"I'm sorry, it hurts, I -" you squeeze your eyes shut. "Texas."

Joel stops the second you say it, still inside you. He lets go of your wrists, and something tells you his hands are hovering mid-air, unsure of what to do.

"Texas," you hear him repeat, absent-minded. "Texas. I... okay." Joel postures up. "I'm going to pull out. Are you ready?" You nod, thankful that Joel notices. He places his hands gently on your hips, like you're made of glass, and slowly pulls out. You hiss at the emptiness, and feel Joel cup your pussy, trying to ease the suddenness of it. He helps you shift to your back, then pulls a quilt over you. You blink.

"I'm sorry," you tell him again. Joel looks at you, brow harsh.

"Don't say that," he tucks himself away. Joel looks at your shaking body, then peels off his flannel to hand to you. You take it, putting it on and sitting up. You draw your knees to your chest, feeling small. "You didn't do anything wrong." You blink.

"You didn't either," you say. Joel scoffs, pacing to the other side of the room. "Please don't leave!" Desperation tinges your voice. Joel stands by the door, back turned. You swallow.

"I'm just grabbin' you some water," Joel looks over his shoulder at you. "Would you prefer I do it later?"

"Yes," you breathe. Joel walks to the edge of the bed.

"Okay," he says, looking defeated. "Tell me what do, sweetheart. Tell me what you need." You look at your lap.

"Can you just... can you sit with me, please?" You ask. Joel inhales, then walks to the side of the bed and climbs on with you. You look at him, tentative, and they lay your head on his shoulder. You slide an arm around Joel's stomach. After a moment, he places a hand over the muscles of your forearm. He ducks his head, lips pressing to the top of your head.

"I'm sorry," he admits. "I never should - the fact I'd let myself do that to you -"

"Stop," you say, voice shaking. "I don't... Joel, don't be mad at yourself. I... please don't be." Joel clutches you, his free hand resting on your waist.

"I'm taking my shit out on you. I shouldn't do that."

"It's been a long journey," your body begins to ache, stress setting in. Joel shakes his head, unsatisfied with your protests.

"No excuses," Joel's entire body is tense. "I always fuck this up, I..." Joel sets his jaw. "I'm a piece of shit for being the one that hurts you."

"Joel, listen -"

"You're the one who needs comfortin' right now, darlin'," Joel interrupts you. He cups your face, and you lean into it. He frowns affectionately at you. "I'm proud of you." You let out a bitter laugh.

"Proud?" You shake your head.

"Yeah," Joel presses emphatically. "Proud. I know it's not easy to stick up for yourself like that," he lets out a long sigh. "And I'm not an easy man to..." Joel trails off. "Well, I'm not an easy man to anything, really."

"Joel," emotion swells in your chest. "I don't think you understand how much you mean to -"

"It's selfish for me to stay with you," Joel tells you. You freeze in his arms.

"Even if that's what I ask you to do?"

Joel doesn't answer. He just keeps holding you, painfully chastely.

[kafkacrisis]

Anything for you

characters: kafka.

warning(s): N.SFW, minors DNI, AFAB fem!reader, dom/sub dynamics (sub!reader & dom!kafka), sadom.asochism, crotch stepping & bootlicking, humiliation k¡nk, unhealthy devotion.

summary: punishments for insubordination are a necessary evil kafka particularly enjoys.

You can't imagine how you must look right now, wearing your dirtied uniform and leaned down on your knees in some dingy hotel room. Your legs ache from the pressure of them against the hard wood floors, specks of dust falling from the opened window onto your skin. Anyone could peer in and see you like this—completely at the mercy of your superior.

Kafka is above you, sat on the edge of the hotel bed, her arms and legs crossed. Her elegance looks out of place in the little run down room you're both camping out in for this mission. Her face trained into perfect boredom, and if you didn't know better, you truly would believe she was trying not to fall asleep.

"I really do not understand how you think sometimes," she finally speaks, the harsh sound of her voice almost making you wince.

You look up at her, eyes probably shining in anticipation. You see her jaw clench harder.

"You risked the entire mission, and for what? Are you just that—" her voice lowers as she stands to her full height, grabbing your face with a painful intensity, "—damn stupid?"

It's rare for Kafka to show any real emotion at all, much less the bone chilling rage she's trying and failing to contain now. In some sick, twisted way, you feel proud of yourself for getting her to react like this.

You open your mouth to speak, but you're cut off with a harsh slap against your cheek, the force of it knocking your head to the side. You let out a small gasp of surprise, mouth hanging open stupidly. She grabs your face again by the chin, pulling it up and to the side so you could lock eyes. Her expression is positively dangerous.

"I should know better than to count on your help," she rasps. "After all, you're just a useless moron who would do anything to get my attention—even if will get you killed."

Her foot raises, the heel of her boot pressing into your clothed thigh. You bite your lip, trying not to let out a cry of pain. She only continues, never releasing her harsh grip on your chin. Your lips wobble with the desire to babble obscenities, to tell her Yes, Kafka, I'd do anything for this, Kafka, please—

"I have to punish you for that stunt you pulled, you know that," Kafka mumbles, her fingers briefly relaxing, running along the curve of your jaw. "I can't do with everyone disobeying me. If you want me to do this, sit you down and hit you until you're coming untouched..."

She pauses, reaching to hold your face delicately with both of her gloved hands. Her thumb wipes away an errant tear from your eye, gentle in a way that almost makes you forget about her heel digging into your leg.

"Then just ask me, instead of doing those pitiful things to make me hurt you. I will welcome you into my arms every time, my sweet girl. You don't even need to ask."

You're crying now, for reasons you can't even begin to name. You've wanted your superior for so long, throwing yourself into danger to protect her, all so you could hear her scold you afterwards for being so reckless.

Kafka is everything to you. She has to know that.

"I will be yours for as long as you want me." Your words come out watery and choked up, remnants of your tears falling into your opened mouth. "Kafka, I—"

"Shh, shh, I know. It's alright," she leans down, her lips just barely brushing against your own, the kiss as chaste as could be. Her eyes are close to yours, the color so deep you could get lost in them forever. "Let me take care of you now, I promise I'll show you how much I desire you, too."

The toe of her boot pries open your legs, pushing against the seam of your pants, and you let out a scream. Kafka looks pleased with herself, her painted lips turning upwards into a familiar wry smile.

Your squeals eventually break off into broken pants, your breath escaping you in short bursts. The pressure feels so good, it feels even better knowing its Kafka doing this to you—but the pain of her boot against your clit is making your vision blacken at the edges.

"You're shaking like a leaf, but isn't this what you wanted?" Her mocking tone lights your blood on fire, and you cry out in disappointment when her boot leaves you. She leans back, her ankles crossed as she once again sits down on the edge of the bed. She leaves you there, choking and wheezing on the floor, painfully wet in the confines of your pants and underwear.

You look up at her, an attempt at pleading that Kafka only laughs at. She's enjoying every second of this, watching her beloved devotee squirm at every denial of pleasure.

She snaps her fingers and directs you forward, as if you were a dog meant to follow her every command. You're flushed down to your chest, with watery eyes and bruises on your arms from a previous battle—but Kafka doesn't seem to care if you're hurting or not. It feels so good to be treated this way, and you wonder (not for the first time), what wires got crossed in your brain to make you feel like this.

"My precious girl," she smiles, pushing your head down to the floor so you're eye level with her shoes. "Won't you clean my boots for me? I can't go out knowing they were up against you like that—isn't it much too vulgar?"

Your throat bobs as you swallow. She is having too much fun with this. You wish you wanted to say no, that the idea of being at Kafka's mercy and being a disgusting bootlicker upset you.

But it doesn't. And so you lower yourself down, and listen to Kafka's voice as you run your tongue along the top of her boot. The taste is inconsequential, it means nothing compared to the sound of Kafka breathing in sharply above you.

"You really would do anything if I asked you to, huh?" Kafka says, almost in disbelief herself. You can feel your heart aching, your eyes shut tightly as you think of how embarrassing this is. Its so fucking embarrassing to be doing this, you can't even think straight. You feel your clit throbbing against your tight pants, your hand itching to reach down and absolve yourself of the pressure.

She suddenly pulls her foot away, and in your embarrassment you can't even find it in yourself to look up and meet her eyes. You really just did that. She probably thinks you're gross. This could be it now—she's going to tell you to get up and leave.

"Get up here, now," she calls, holding her hand out for you to grab. With hesitancy, you reach to take her hand—your breath hitching when she yanks you up on top of the bed. She pushes you down with an urgency you just don't get, scrambling to unbutton your pants as you writhe and cry for it above her.

"Kafka, Kafka, please," you pant, chanting her name without pause. It hurts. You're so desperate for her, and it hurts more than any pain or humiliation she's subjected you to in the past hour.

"You're too good. Too willing to do anything for me," Kafka whispers into your neck as she rubs fingers against your now exposed cunt, rough and fast in their movements. Her gloves hurt, but the sensation of them is also so unbearably good it makes you want to screech. "I will keep you here, fuck you all the time til I'm the only person you care to remember. I promise."

You come after that, loud and messy—your face flushing once you realize how it had gotten everywhere. Kafka doesn't seem to mind though, watching the way you start to drift off into a deep sleep as she licks the remnants from her gloved fingers.

this was so nasty i'm sorry everyone. the demons took over and they wouldn't leave me be.

[lostbetweenvampiresandmusic]

Can I request prompt #1, dealer's choice on the pairing?

Yes, absolutely! I hope you like this!

1. "I'm going to need a stool."

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

It had been three days I'd changed. Three days since I said goodbye to my family, the sun, my former life - all because I loved him. For some reason. He wasn't easy to love, he admitted as much when he offered to change me a month ago.

David was someone who was used to looking out for himself. He took care of things and made sure he and his brothers were safe. He was cold and distant, and with reason. He has told me about the Emersons and how they'd almost meant the end of the boys and him. How he found it hard to trust afterwards, how he became even more dangerous towards outsiders. And yet, underneath all that dark and cold, I saw who he was. He was protective. And he cared, and once he did, he would give you the world if he could.

I hadn't known why, but I had liked him ever since I met him. Ever since he tried to bite me and I bit back - literally. It was self-defense, an action caused by lost hope. But it worked. He was so shocked - mumbling about it being something that had never happened before - that he kept me alive. He had been intrigued, wanting to know more about that strange human that did the one thing he had never seen before.

Over time, the course of three weeks or so, we became close friends. He was fun to hang out with, knew more than I could ever dream of, and above that all, he seemed to like hanging out with me too. So when he offered to change me, I didn't hesitate to say yes. When I had to make my first kill, I did hesitate a little, but once the smell of fresh blood hit my nose, I attacked and completed my change.

Now, on day three of being a vampire, I started to realise that there was one small problem that I hadn't taken into account when changing.

I was short.

The tourists we fed on were tall.

This, I realised quickly as David and I went on a solo hunt, was going to be a problem.

"What's wrong?"

David sat perched in a tree overlooking the bonfire party. I sat next to him, gladly having taken hold of his arm in order to get up.

"There's no way in hell I could bite any of these guys. They're all 6 something and -"

"You can bite them." David shrugged it off, but I was not convinced.

"You do realise I am barely 5 feet, right?"

"So?"

"How am I supposed to reach their neck?"

"You bite them in their arm."

"Well, I don't want to." I looked at him. I had no problem with being a vampire, but an arm was just very uncomfortable to hold while you were draining someone. The victim was always struggling - rightfully so, if you really thought about it - and it was just easier to subdue them by injuring their neck. It was quicker and kinder too.

"You're going to have to feed on them, one way or another."

I thought about it for a moment, biting my inner lip as I thought. "I'm going to need a stool."

It was quiet for a moment before David burst out laughing. "What?"

"So I can bite them. I am going to need a stool."

"Or you fly?" He grinned, causing me to glare at him.

"We can fly?! Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I like listening to your problem solving skills, and the idea of you bringing a stool every time we feed is one I will treasure for centuries."

"I'm not going to hear the end of this, am I?"

David grinned as he shook his head. "Nope. Now, let's feed."

[beanghostprincess]

Sanji has helped me in so many ways. I will forever be grateful for the creation of this character. He quite literally means the world to me right now.

(TW: ED/Depression/Suicide attempt mention)

I've always struggled with food. Well, not always. But at the end of middle school (more or less. Give or take. Age 12/13) I became obsessed with what I ate. I still don't know exactly how it started, but I think it has always been a mix of my need to control my life when it's crumbling down and the necessity to look skinny (both things are my mother's fault, mostly. And also lots of things going on at the moment). So I started skipping meals constantly and throwing away food and throwing up. Not gonna get into details, but it ruined my life without anybody knowing until a huge depressive episode came and then I tried to off myself, yadda yadda yadda. Then I just stopped eating food and my meals every day were basically a monster and gum and maybe a piece of fruit. I couldn't even drink milk without crying. Then it got a bit better. Then a bit worse. It wasn't very consistent. And then I started doing exercise but that only made me even more obsessed with calorie intake and healthy food and I still can't drink milk or bread without at least feeling awful about it.

And then I watched One Piece.

I know it sounds extremely silly and dumb, but it has helped me in so many ways. I'm not gonna get into all the things it has done for me, because then I'd have to talk about Robin, Nami, Luffy, Pudding and Buggy which are, like, the characters that have helped me the most next to Sanji, and I would not finish this post.

But Sanji is just so, so important to me.

He speaks about food with such passion. His whole thing about not wasting food literally comes from an experience of starvation and because of the sacrifice his father made for him. He keeps saying he refuses to let people go hungry, no matter what. That we all deserve to eat. He relates food to love and cooking is his whole life. It kind of started as a joke when my brother said "nooo, now you can't waste food because Sanji would be sad" and I- That day I literally ate wayyy more than usual with that thought in mind. And I didn't feel bad afterward for once. And he's just- He just makes me feel so comfortable around food. Which is the normal amount of comfort somebody should have and sometimes it's not even that, but it helps. It helps so much.

Then his whole thing with Germa and the Vinsmokes. It killed me. My relationship with my mother is, uh, you can call it complicated but I fucking hate her so. Yeah. And Sanji's story about rejecting his blood relatives and finding better people who will love him hit so close to home. Him being different. Weak. More emotional. A good person. Sanji refusing to use the name Vinsmoke. It's my whole life. Sanji self-sabotaging himself all the time and constantly sacrificing himself, too? I just can't do it, man, he means the world to me. And then Wano happens and he turns out to have the same body as his siblings but he's still himself. He's still Sanji no matter how much in common he has with the Vinsmokes. And as somebody who's constantly dealing with people telling them that they look like their mom? I fucking love it. I know I look like her and I even act like her sometimes but that doesn't mean I am her. And it doesn't mean she deserves to be part of my family, because she isn't and I can't wait to get rid of her in my life.

It's not only food and family, though. Sanji has helped me accept myself in so many ways too. In the way I perceive others and in the way I act. He has helped me eat. He has helped me realize you don't have to consider your blood relatives family if you don't love them. He has helped me see that my kindness is a strength and not a weak spot.

Not to mention that his whole thing with gender and sexuality, how the fandom portrays him, and how I personally write him has been of so much help in understanding myself. I recently discovered I was a lesbian, and also being genderfluid I just- I just love Sanji so much I be projecting my gender issues and internalized stuff with comphet on him. And let me tell you, it helps.

This whole thing is just something short and sweet I wanted to say because media affects people. In the best of ways. One Piece in general has saved my life in many ways, but Sanji in particular is still helping me every day.

[gofancyninjaworld]

Garou in the Manga and Webcomic

So… the differences between Garou in the manga and the webcomic, how they're turning out, and what I make of it? Sure, for a story that seemed to be following the webcomic's tracks, Garou's trajectory sure has gone elsewhere (so far).

This is seriously long, and I make no apologies.

Let me start with the easy part, what I make of it. I think ONE is a DAMN LUCKY WRITER. You can't write something without wondering, at least in passing, how else you might have developed a character, a scene, what might have been. Heck, you can't make a decision in life without glancing occasionally at the path not taken and wondering where it might have led. ONE has gotten to not only wonder how else he might have taken the story of One-Punch Man, but to flesh out and publish TWO VERSIONS, and have audiences enthusiastically read both. Lucky, lucky man. A dog with two tails couldn't be happier and I'm glad for him. I'm also the greedy person double-fisting on story goodness. Mama didn't raise no picky eater! I find a lot to enjoy in both realisations of Garou.

Now for the tough part. I think I'm going to answer this from two perspectives, the in-story (intradiegetic) approach and the out-of-story (extradiegetic) one. I feel both are needed here for a reasonably comprehensive answer.

Rest below the cut.

A: In-Story

Garou's problems There isn't a change in the fundamental character, motivations, or outlook between WC!Garou and Manga!Garou. Same highly-driven, cocky, sarcastic martial arts genius. Same keen observation of the vissitudes of the world, and same soft heart that breaks at how little is done about it. Same issue with heroes as the saviours of the world. Same grandiose plan to make the world safe through terror. Same love of speechifying. The difference lies in what happened.

If I were going to put a finger on the most important difference in how things turned out, I'd put it on the issue of softness. Even if you reject all performances of toxic masculinity, as a young man, it's impossible not to internalise some of its poison. Garou is a soft guy -- and he's ashamed of his softness. When he feels he's being soft, he sees it as weakness and lashes out. Even before Saitama points this out on the battlefield in the WC, we see Garou feel that weakness and choose to lash out by trying to kill Saitama when the latter lets him off for dashing-and-dining. It's a good thing he picked Saitama, no? However, even there, there is a difference: WC!Garou is more focused on the opportunity to hunt a hero, while Manga!Garou is stung by his feeling pathetic at being pitied by even a no-name hero.

Fascinating, the change between hunting and murder attempt

In the WC, ONE doesn't make further use of this afterwards, but he comes to revisit the issue in the manga, in the aftermath of Garou accidentally saving several people and Saitama pointing out that he has a hero's instincts. While Saitama taunted Garou a bit in the webcomic so the latter would give him everything he had, it's nothing compared to the relentlessness with which Saitama keeps pressing Garou's buttons, and that combination made everything much worse.

Garou spells it out for us," I can't let myself forget this anger… not until the entirety of humanity has been made to suffer the same pain and despair I did!" Recalling the people thanking him, he thinks, "It was that simple to make my preparation and resolve waver. That's how pathetic I was…and it fucking pisses me off!" It's that incident that opened the door to how differently things went.

This is it: the point where Manga!Garou resolves to really do evil rather than Evil Lite.

Manga!Garou isn't the only guy to act this way. Even within the same arc, we see two heroes, Flashy Flash and Superalloy Darkshine, also lash out when they feel their egoes threatened. ONE shows how weak, destructive, and self-defeating this is. Fortunately, they tried hitting beings who could hit them back harder. Good!

They both had it coming: let's hope that they eventually improve themselves.

Unfortunately, what usually happens is that a bloke looking to lash out to assuage his internal feelings of weakness meets people he can punch down on, and BOY HOWDY DID GAROU PUNCH DOWN. Besides being literally poison to anyone around, his refusal to leave came from his dark joy at finally being able to provoke the fear and panic he'd hoped to from his mere presence. He targeted and murdered Genos, not just because he wanted to provoke Saitama into showing him all he had, but because he figured (correctly) that this would hurt Saitama as no punch he cared to throw could. And God, did he want to wipe that stupid smile off that bald guy's face.

It is very important to note that WC!Garou also met "God", but all he got out of the deal was a fancier outfit that Saitama quickly punched off him. It's the toxic determination to cause pain that marks the difference with Manga!Garou.

At the end of the day, His Yeastiness is a facilitator, not a controller.

It appalls a lot of readers to think that the lovely Garou, whom we so want to admire and root for as the underdog, can also be the same Garou who is so ugly, but it's the truth: all people are capable of all things.

We can well look some askance at Saitama for taunting Garou to do his worst rather than just beating him down and giving him a good talking-to, but the responsibility for his actions all lies on Garou. Say what you like about Garou, but you can never accuse him of riding on others' coattails: he has slapped away every hand proffered to him, so for him to recognise his limits and humble himself to ask Saitama for help is a huge credit to his strength of character and courage. He taught Saitama how to travel back in time to stop him from making the same mistake, and bravely persisted even though it cost him his life.

The manga explores what Garou could be much more thoroughly than the WC does (this is not a criticism of the WC -- I'll come back to that later), showing us both the heights of how noble he can be and the depths of how toxic he can also be.

Farewell, noble prince.

Who cares? By this, I don't mean this as a slight to the reader, but rather as a way of noting that the comparison is incomplete without also considering who cares about Garou in each version. WC!Garou is really alone. Yes, Bang goes out to stop him, and, notably, the old man finds himself moved to sorrow rather than rage when Garou is finally stopped by Saitama. However, as of yet, there has been no further meeting nor reconciliation between the two.

The contrast with Manga!Bang is fascinating. While Manga!Bang is no angel (indeed, we learn that he is a deeply selfish man… learn? We kinda knew that), he really does give up everything (the regard he enjoyed as a martial artist, his dojo, and his hero career) in an attempt, not to subdue Garou, but to bring him back to the good side, the same way his elder brother did for him so many decades ago. You need a heart of stone not to be moved by his acknowledging how he has failed as a master and all but begging Garou for a chance to start over.

When Garou runs away at the end of the night, Manga!Bang goes to find him and persuades him to turn himself in. When Garou's parents refuse to come and pick up their son -- as an 18-year-old, Garou is a minor -- Manga!Bang steps in as his guardian, goes with him to the police to answer for the one outstanding crime (the dine-and-dashing), accompanies him to apologise to the heroes he hunted, and is very present in Garou's life. Even if I'm giving Bang's tough love regimen the side-eye, the way that Manga!Garou hasn't been abandoned unloved into the world to fend for himself is a welcome development. It's interesting to see some of Bang's former students who left because they didn't trust that Bang would not favour Garou even though the latter beat them up, have started to come back to see if the old man really has changed.

What really matters If you will forgive my diverging a second, one of the fun things ONE comes to frequently is that we don't know what will make us happy. In chapter 85 (86 in print), the panel of Fubuki staring agog at the sight of several heroes stuffed in Saitama's tiny apartment, with Bang, Bomb, and Genos all tending their wounds, really stands out to me. Not 24 hours ago, there is no way Genos would have been comfortable enough to start repairing himself with the other heroes around: this point marked his no longer being 'the weird new guy' and rather being 'one of the guys'. If you had told Genos that he was looking for acceptance, he'd say you were talking nonsense, and yet, acceptance is one of the things he's looking for, even though he doesn't know it.

Garou isn't looking for acceptance, but he is looking to be seen and appreciated. Even as he grumbles about being made to clean the dojo and go to court-mandated jobs, Manga!Garou really is happy to be doing something to build the dojo back up. Just as importantly, working day-by-day to build up rather than tear down has brought WC!Garou a sense of peace and perspective. His work ethic and strength being appreciated can't not have an effect on him, even if he isn't cracking a smile when complimented.

Even if he's being either sarcastic or glum, Garou contributing something valuable and being appreciated for it really is something he was searching for.

What about next time? Finally, I'll point out the differences in what's facing them. Because Saitama solved his internal problems by pointing out that he was a frustrated hero at heart, WC!Garou's ongoing problems are largely external. He's an outlaw who needs a way to be rehabilitated into society. I'm hoping that the Neo Heroes affair offers Garou a way to redeem himself and get outstanding charges dropped. Working under the table, unable to get full working benefits, go to school, own a house and the like on account of unspent criminal convictions gets old fast.

Persisting and building despite all the fools harassing him, WC!Garou is developing some maturity fast.

Manga!Garou has not had to critically examine his beliefs yet, so he's not convinced he's wrong. What he does know is that he absolutely does not want to become a monster and that hunting heroes is a stupid idea. There's an internal struggle that needs to be finished here. He also has external problems: Bang's very helpfulness in getting so many charges against him dropped, means that there are going to be a lot of people out there in the story who feel he hasn't been punished enough. It is going to be exacerbated by the fact that Bang plans to introduce him to the Hero Association as a new hero, and Sicchi fully intends to parachute him into Class S despite knowing that all hell will break loose among the heroes. I don't think Garou's yet been told of this plan -- expect fireworks.

At the moment, Garou's ongoing ambitions are being treated as a joke. But like most things OPM, it won't be a damn bit funny when it comes up again.

B: Out-Of-Story

The art of constraint The differences in the space and time available to the manga and the webcomic really do matter. Just as you can say the same thing in a short poem, a short story, and a novel, the form of the art creates both restrictions and opportunities in how ideas are explored and expressed.

I think ONE is using both the super-compact storytelling of the webcomic and the more expansive saga of the manga well, but they create different possibilities. The webcomic is compact, and interestingly, ONE has usually preferred to focus on the characters sequentially: when it's a character's turn to get their fish fried, we see their fish thoroughly scaled, gutted, filleted, dredged in flour, fried to a crisp and served with a garnish. Their problems are pulled out, they face their crisis, it gets resolved with Saitama's help, and they're kicked out into the cold to make room for the next character. We don't mind seeing them again, but they've had their anagnorisis, they've had their peripeteia, they've had their denouement, and all they have to do is go and implement what they've learned. It's very satisfying, very compact.

However, the manga has a lot more space -- it's after all, the paid jobs of ONE, the workaholic artist Murata, Murata's assistants, and the staff at Shueisha -- and so, it's got more bandwidth. The manga tends to do character development in parallel: we see a lot of characters facing challenges and developing in tandem. Very little needs to be finished at a given time, and so ONE is happy to leave characters with further work still to do.

WC!Garou got his answer all neatly tied up. He was in a position to swallow that bitter pill, and so when we see him, he's working out how to live and has renounced his old beliefs. Manga!Garou has not had any neat answers. On the one hand, it's less satisfying to us as readers, but on the other hand, it gives Manga!Garou much more scope to develop over time to become someone WC!Garou can't imagine being.

Swings and roundabouts: ONE does not believe in giving characters what they haven't worked for, and so where there's less space for characters to work things out, there's also limits to what can be explored. However, he doesn't shortchange the webcomic characters: they get the right amount of development for the space in the webcomic.

No nuclear-powered truths for Garou in the manga; instead, a deliberately more open observation that leaves him more to work out.

A colder world Without a doubt, I'd rather live in the webcomic version of the OPM universe than the manga one. For a given timepoint, the manga universe is so much more dangerous it's not even funny. However, if you ask most readers, without thinking, they'd say the webcomic is the darker place. It isn't, but what it is, is bleaker feeling. A major part of that is that there is less interaction between characters. Not a lot less, just sufficiently less to start to matter, and that compounds. I'm not going to belabour this point: I've already written about it elsewhere.

Since one of ONE's wheelhouses is that we need others in order to be fully ourselves, with even the negative interactions having value, the webcomic becomes an increasingly bleak reflection of the manga for the characters, as we see how many opportunities they've lost. And I'm sure that part of the reason WC!Garou appears so subdued is that he's having to face the reality that he really is all alone in the world -- and he's got no one to blame but himself. It's funny, even when we say that we don't give a fuck about others, we sure hope that at least a few others will give a fuck about us.

If you want me to sum up where they are in their respective stories, WC!Garou has hit rock bottom and is rebuilding his life one brick at a time, while Manga!Garou has been spared hitting rock bottom (for now: the rock bottom he was heading for was 100% fatal). The latter's day of reckoning is yet to come but come it surely will.

Summary

In short, chaos theory rules here: small changes to initial conditions lead to large changes in outcome, all while being quasi-deterministic. I think both are good explorations of the character in context.

[crossdressingdeath]

Narrator: *For the first time in over a century, silence falls over the Bhaal Temple. No chants, no screams, no prayers.* Narrator: *In the end, your own death brought you more joy than any you wrought on this land. You are slipping into peaceful oblivion.* Narrator: *But your journey is not over.* Withers: Thou hast defied Bhaal, thy liege and father, and in doing so hast earned a place among champions and heroes. Withers: But, alas, thy courage was in opposition to the divine cosmology that bound thee to the Lord of Murder. Withers: Thou art now faithless - godless - and doomed to wander the Fugue Plane for eternity. Withers: I will not permit that, though all the powers of life and death dictate that it should be so. Withers: I, too, still hold some power, and I invest a portion of it in thee, who hath challenged the gods and now liveth to tell of it. Withers: Thy fight is not over, and it is thy fight, for one who can look upon Bhaal and oppose him can survive any crisis. Withers: So rise, Challenger of Gods, and prepare for battle once more. Death will not claim thee whilst I endure.

Not gonna lie: this sounds like whether or not Durge was immortal before, they sure as hell are now. I mean, "Death will not claim thee whilst I endure"? Sounds to me like they aren't going to be dying any time soon. Durge's relationship with death has been upgraded from "I'll have to ask my dad (he says no)" to "I'll have to ask my granddad (he says absolutely not under any circumstances)." Benefits (or curse) of coming from a family of death gods, I guess.

I love the imagery of a hush falling over the temple as all of this is happening. Like... based on Withers's dialogue this shouldn't be happening. Durge shouldn't be defying their father and Withers definitely shouldn't be bringing them back afterwards. From the moment Durge says no everything's gone off-script. It's also interesting that Withers says Durge defying Bhaal is in opposition to divine cosmology; keeping in mind I haven't played the first two games, I get the sense that while Bhaalspawn defying Bhaal isn't the norm it's not all that unheard of. There are two whole games about Bhaalspawn doing exactly that, actually. Then again Durge's situation is unique; possibly it's something like... as they were made from Bhaal's own gore Durge literally shouldn't be able to refuse him like that, which raises some fun questions about their life pre-amnesia. The suggestion that Durge kind of broke cosmology in defying Bhaal is very good and I'd love more details on that.

The suggestion that Durge is now entirely without a god to claim their soul on their death and will wander the Fugue Plane for eternity now that Bhaal doesn't want them is very interesting, considering that you can be a cleric and so bound to a god other than Bhaal (unless the dialogue is different under those circumstances). I guess Bhaal took priority as their father and maybe since Durge died as a direct result of him abandoning them no one else had the chance to stake a claim? But if this is just the way of things for them now and their soul can't be claimed by a god that's. not good. But then again I guess technically Jergal has it. It's fine! I really like him walking into this situation and saying "No, they don't deserve this and they're too important to this fight, I'm not letting them die like this (or at all)."

Based on what Bhaal says prior to this Durge dies less because he directly killed them and more because his divine essence was their life force, so when he ripped it out of them they had nothing to keep them going? So then what Withers is doing seems to be replacing that portion of Bhaal's divine essence with his own, giving Durge a new life force in the process (hence why they'll now endure as long as he does, since presumably if he dies that new life force will die with him). Durge may or may not thank him for that (that bit about Durge's death bringing them more joy than any they've caused hits hard, and even harder when you consider that the deaths they've caused include Ketheric and Orin and potentially include people who hurt their companions like Cazador, Gortash, Viconia...), but it seems like the divine equivalent of a heart transplant or something similar.

[eschergirls]

It's been 2 weeks so it's time to announce the winners of the March caption contest!

We had a lot of good entries this time and I had a very hard time choosing.  So many made me laugh, so thank you to everybody who submitted!

As usual when I have a lot of submissions, I'll choose 3 winners and 2 honorable mentions. :)

Each winner will get to choose a prize if they wish (but you don't have to, you can just participate for fun too.)  The prizes are extra Steam codes that I've acquired through bundles over the years and I figure that giving them out for contests would be fun.

Anyway here are the entries!

Mastodon/Fedi:

Claire: like a true warrior she is hitting the "crouch" command atop her fallen enemies Ordinating Aether Snow: It is a common misconception that the "death" part of her name refers to some grim reaper like mythos or to her pale complexion. The real origin of the moniker is an amusing coincidence born from academia. When biologists were first dissecting a specimen of her species they were assigning random letters to each joint on her limbs beyond the ones found on normal humans. Only afterwards, did they find that the section between her knee and hips spelt out "death."

Disqus:

Imry: With standard warnings doing nothing to reduce the overwhelming number of back injuries, the Coffin Comics warehouse safety team had to get more creative with their reminders to lift with your legs, not your back. Jenn Dolari: FFFFFRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPPPPTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT! Karmazyna: I'd be holding on to my sword for dear life as well if I had to squat to pee in those heels. MaryKaye: So you thought you were clever to steal my pants? Your death will be...exquisite.

Tumblr:

@chasedbybuildings: Was this drawn by someone from outer space who's not sure what humans look like? @cipheramnesia: *FART!!* @cipheramnesia: "Of course I'm going to fuck the sword." @cipheramnesia: "You're sure this is where you dropped your contact lens?" @cipheramnesia: "Oh hello, let me slip into something a little more comfortable." [trash compactor noises] @direwolfblackrose: That's the "these heels are killing me" squat @evilqueerwizardassociation: In today's episode of Feel Good News: woman born with right hip  ending six inches lower than the left overcomes disability to become sexualized as a knight! @failure-to-adult: "Hey fam, I'm Lady Death and I'm gonna inappropriately twerk on this battlefield! Don't forget to like and subscribe for more content!" @faunusroman: Looks like someone took the term "slay" too literally. @fluffyapathybunny: Oh wow this is all kinds of wrong, anatomy-wise. Why are her breasts so far down on her torso? @furrytechgirl: "I do have scoliosis! How did you know?" @madfishmonger: "Wait, you can't shift your butt cheeks far apart independently of each other? Skill issue." @metztreme: “I sure hope this fart loosens my wedgie” @mistakescontinuetobemade: when the thong just ain’t far enough up your ass to keep your free-floating pelvis in place @mnemonicpneumaticknife: "Are you done taking the photo?  Okay, good.  Put down the fan and come help me stand up. I can't feel my fucking legs." @vaspider: When your sword needs to go, but can't unless you go too. @wardenmcpherson: Don't judge, but she pulled Excalibur from the stone with her booty cheeks. Apparently, that was the only part of her that was pure of heart. @yourfriendlyneighborhoodhomo: when you've crouched down but you're in heels and if you try to stand wrong then you'll trip and get a face full of asphalt @zombiemollusk: "lesson learned: don't ever pole dance with a sword. most embarrassing hospital visit ever."

So first, honorable mentions go to:

@failure-to-adult: "Hey fam, I'm Lady Death and I'm gonna inappropriately twerk on this battlefield! Don't forget to like and subscribe for more content!"

@zombiemollusk: "lesson learned: don't ever pole dance with a sword. most embarrassing hospital visit ever."

And the winners:

3rd place goes to Claire: like a true warrior she is hitting the "crouch" command atop her fallen enemies

2nd place goes to @cipheramnesia: "Oh hello, let me slip into something a little more comfortable." [trash compactor noises]

And the winner is... @madfishmonger: "Wait, you can't shift your butt cheeks far apart independently of each other? Skill issue."

Congratulations to all the winners and also thank you to everybody who participated! 

Please stay tuned for a new caption contest next month!

If you won and would like a Steam code as a prize, please message me with which prize you would like.  If you came in 2nd, message me with 2 choices in order of preference, and if you came in 3rd, message me with 3 choices, etc...  I'll give you your top choice that hadn't been taken by the other winners. (To clarify, every winner only gets 1 prize, but winners other than the one in first place should give me their list of games in order of preference so if one is taken, I'll give you the next on the list.  It makes it easier for me to hand out the prizes.)

The Steam codes I have available as prizes are for:  Still Life, Riot: Civil Unrest, Castle Crashers, Hotel Giant 2, Steel Storm: Burning Retribution, Rage in Peace, Uncertain: The Last Quiet Day, Uncertain: Light At The End, and Shattered - Tale of the Forgotten Kings.

[justanotherblogger]

My theory is that Mimzy was once Alastor’s best friend, he maybe even thought he might have been in love with her at one point, in that manner aroace people who don’t know they’re aroace often do, that she was then sacrificed by this cult, and that Alastor had them infiltrated and taken down every member of that cult over decades, losing more and more of himself each time as those he killed grew less and less directly connected to the crime, “sorry you just got in my way, maybe I enjoy it just a little bit does that make me insane”, but that in the act of doing so, that contradiction of righteous intent and pure depravity, along with whatever ritual for power the cult had initially started upon, let’s say in honour of Roo (the root of all evil in the Hellaverse, a character yet to be introduced), and that on Alastor’s eventual death, he then found himself in Hell all-powerful, and set about bringing down those Overlords beneath his power continuing this moral code, until he hit a wall, finding himself having ended all Overlords less powerful than him / otherwise came to his senses on meeting Mimzy again and finding her to have gone to hell, recognising that “weren’t you an old pal of mine” and really nothing more and deciding mere power, entertainment is all he now desires. But that still, out of obligation, that he must kill Lucifer, the Devil, for a sense of completion, while still being allowed to exist himself afterward. Which leads to whatever deal he ended up trapped in seven years before the events of the series, and him getting Charlie to make a deal with him to “harm no one” at a certain point in the future: to ensure that when the time comes that he will be able to kill Lucifer, and the one person able to stop him won’t be able to. To really make Alastor a true Exterminator, more measured, the embodiment of how the road to Hell is paved with good intentions.

Huh, interesting take! I didn't think the Insane song was canon, but maybe I was just misinformed. I've never really thought of Alastor having his path of vengence and righteousness leading him towards hell, but I can see a lot of potential with it!

How Alastor had been barely keeping it together in his life already, and the one person he really cares about gets killed by a freaky cult? Yeah, I'd understand his murder spree now.

Maybe the cult ate Mimzy's body for the ritual, and Alastor returned the favor, starting his cannibalistic tendencies. But I'm not sure because Mimzy didn't have any indication of that on her sinner form from what we've seen.

I also saw a similar theory with the exterminator Alastor part, where he might've originally been in heaven, but when forced through the exterminator program, let his violent tendencies take over.

I do like the cult part. Maybe this caused what Alastor was referring to when he had his interlude in the finale song, with red eyes (that I just noticed after a rewatch) following him from his crash sight to the radio tower.

Those eyes look very similar to Roo's concept art. Maybe Roo found him because he killed a lot of her followers and made a contract with him to keep him under her thumb in the long run, making sure he doesn't interrupt her plans again.

[moghedien]

I just started my first playground of baldur's gate 3, do you have any tips?

sorry for answering a bit late, I'm about to hit by a hurricane lol

anyway, I may not be the best to ask as a lot of people have been playing the game for much much longer than me, and I'm not always sure what people don't know/miss

overall, I'd say don't worry too much about picking a "wrong" option or messing up, especially not in the first playthrough. there are very few instances where you make a "bad" mistake and don't immediately know it. if you don't like how something turns out, just reload and try again. or just go with it and see what happens and do it differently next time. also remember to save and quicksave, and that you can quicksave in the middle of dialogue even.

also don't worry too much about your build. like yes, you can minmax everything to your hearts content to do maximum damage at all times, but you can also just not do that and do whatever you want and get through the game just as fine. from my experience, its very hard to break a character and make them useless, and even if you do that, you can just respec them later.

Also some quick tips that might be slightly spoilery. I'm not gonna get into details with it, but I'm putting them last in case you don't wanna read. It mostly pertains to stuff that you might actually miss/think you're gonna miss:

You can go into the Underdark or Mountain Pass (Gith Creche) whenever you want and still go back to the main act one area. Those aren't really points of no return, they just have harder enemies, but you can back track after going to those places and even go to both of them despite the game making it seem like you have to make a choice. You just don't want to proceed past those places until you're ready to leave act one for good. You'll know you're near the exit for Act One when you meet and a certain old wizard.

You can absolutely recruit Minthara in a good playthrough and while still recruiting Halsin. When Halsin asks you to kill the goblin leaders, you still need to fight Minthara, but toggle on "non-lethal" damage (google how to do it if you don't know, its a bit different based on PC vs console and its probably best to visually see what you have to do anyway). Fight her and knock her unconscious, and take out the rest of the goblins (lethally or not, your choice), just be careful of hitting her with area effects. Once the battle is done, hover over her body, and it should say she's unconscious instead of dead. She's still lootable, and just leave her sleeping there. Later in the game, she'll come back and you'll get a chance to recruit her (and it won't really be something you can miss, you'll know when you're at that spot).

In Act 2, when you're at a certain Inn, if you want the best case scenario for certain NPCs and also probably one of your companions, DO NOT let the cleric get kidnapped. If she gets taken in the fight, reload and try again until she isn't.

Long Rest in camp (especially in act 1) with different companions active in your party. Some cutscenes won't trigger unless they're in your party so you can miss out on some scenes if you don't swap people out occasionally. The main ones for this that I remember are Astarion, Shadowheart, and Lae'zel.

If you aren't playing a durge character, maybe do that afterward. I think I'm glad I did durge after I beat the game with a non-origin character first, but playing durge is an entirely different experience for the game. I imagine playing as the other origins too, but I haven't done any of them yet.

ummm, that's all I can really think of at the moment, so if anyone else wants to chime in with stuff, feel free

[msmcnevertweet]

GHOULBOYS - Where ghosts are real, or not I guess.

GHOULBOYS is a one-shot horror/comedy TTRPG for 3 players. It's about amateur paranormal investigators hunting for ghosts in supposedly haunted locales, interpreting evidence and bullshitting with their friends. I made this one! I love ghost things! Let's talk about them! But first...

Will we finally answer the question... are ghosts real?

Inspired by shows and games like Ghost Files, Buzzfeed Unsolved: Supernatural, Phasmophobia and Most Haunted, you'll play as one of three classes:

The BELIEVER, trying to uncover evidence that the paranormal is real, and detail the nature of the supposed haunting.

The SCEPTIC, who believes that everything has a reasonable explanation, and the idea of ghosts is kinda funny. 

The PRODUCER, who’s recording this whole thing, and looking out for what the other two might miss.

It's a GMless game where you and your two friends fuck around in abandoned buildings with spirit boxes, motion sensors, and turn the gain up on your microphone incredibly loudly to hear what might, maybe have someone saying half a word.

If that sounds cool, it's $5 until the end of the month!

My friends it is time to peer closely at a blurry photo

YES IT'S TIME FOR MORE SELF INDULGENCE BELOW THE CUT.

(Potential) Spoilers for: Ghostwatch and The Blair Witch Project.

Bro bro bro did you see that bro BRO

When I was a teen posessed by the grim specter of an idea known as "Thinking I was a guy", I used to get very stoned and sit in cars with my friends and drive around at night. Being stoned with The Lads was a good way of pretending I wasn't possessed, I guess.

One time we drove to a supposedly haunted stretch of road; the story was that a woman who lived nearby had gone out onto the road late at night and been hit by a car and killed. If you drove along that road at the time of her death, you might see her, wearing the nightgown she died in.

After about an hour of driving up and down the road, we were about to give up. The driver swung into a driveway to turn the car around, and out of the pitch blackness, I saw it. White, twisted, grasping. It was just a flash, but I know what I saw. I screamed, my friends screamed, the tires of the car screamed as they span griplessly on the tarmac for that endless split second before it pulled away.

Yes of course it was a fucking tree. But for at least 5 minutes, we all believed I'd seen her. As plain as day, a dead woman in a nightgown had grasped at me on the other side of the windscreen through the darkness. The real fear lasted seconds. The adrenaline lasted a few minutes. The laughs lasted for a while afterwards.

I don't believe in ghosts. But the idea of them has the power to make us conjure them. We stare at the fuzzy frozen frame of video and think we can see a form, a face. We listen to the overpowering static hum of a shotgun mic pointed into a hallway and swear we hear a voice. We peer into the darkness, and our brains connect the dots we've decided are there. We want to be scared, especially when we can laugh about it afterwards.

It's just the Pipes

If you know the Orson Welles' War of the Worlds radio broadcast, Ghostwatch pulls a similar trick. It's 1992, you've sat down to watch a live TV show doing a "scientific investigation" into a haunted suburban home with Big Name TV News Guy Michael Parkinson, Big Name TV "Robot Wars" Guy Craig Charles, and a bunch of other Big Name TV people I don't really know.

The house is supposedly possessed by a malevolent evil spirit who the homeowners kids call Pipes. They hear banging noises at night, their mom tells them "It's just the pipes." Watch along at home, phone in using the number on your screens with your ghost stories, and you know, just in case you maybe see anything on the footage that we might miss.

It's staged, of course, and staged incredibly. It's very fucking creepy. Kitchy, mundane 90's TV gives way slowly to creeping dread that never seems to stop creeping, eventually arriving at a terminus of full on Blair Witch surrealness. It drew so many complaints from people whose children were turned to traumatised wrecks that it was banned from being broadcast for 10 years.

Probably because the newscaster they saw on TV every day turned, in the course of about half an hour, from this

To this

There's not really many clips on youtube but trust me, it's good. It's slow. Give it a chance, you should watch it.

Josh? Is that you down there?

There's so many jokes about The Blair Witch Project, but that's not because it's bad. I mean, it IS kind of bad, and that's the point. Heather, Josh and Mike are just amateur film makers making a documentary on a shoestring budget, about the mystery of the Blair Witch, the details of which matter little to what happens next. The jokes are attempts by people trying to break the hold the film has on them. But it holds on tight.

It works so well because it's so sparse. The minimal, natural sets, the handheld footage, the we're-not-even-really-acting-I'm-actually-kinda-just-creeped-out performances. The characters talk like convincingly kinda shitty people, deal with getting lost like real people, argue like convincingly scared people. It explains nothing about the greater mystery, cares not for any attempt to make sense of what's going on, all it wants to do is slowly drag you to it's stark, screaming conclusion.

Like many successful horror films, it got a bunch of sequels which I've not seen, and don't care to. It doesn't need them.

Ok but what about real ghosts

There's something about a weird dollar store Trent Reznor and his bros crawling around a tourist spot that makes Ghost Adventures so fun to watch. Trant Reznot is out here shouting at ghosts with his whole chest like "I HEARD YOU DON'T LIKE BIG LIGHTS SHINING IN YOUR FACE HUH", and it's great. When the often questionable "activity" occurs, it's rarely actually spooky in any way, but the deadly serious way with which they describe the mote of light (read: dust particle) moving across the footage that it's endearing.

These shows (Most Haunted, 28 Days Haunted, et al) tend towards having a pseudo "intellectual" angle. Ghost Adventures doesn't care, it's listening to Tool in it's car outside the high school, passing you a joint and saying "Isn't it fucked up that people die, but like, aren't gone, man?" I can't tell if it doesn't take itself too seriously, or if it just doesn't really know how to be serious, but it's good.

Hey there demons, it's me... ya boi

I watched so much god damn Buzzfeed Unsolved through Covid. I watched it until the early hours of the morning, until I'd successfully creeped myself out to the point where I had to run from the living room to the bedroom in the dark to avoid the Texarkana Phantom Killer that my brain had successfully materialised just behind the back of my head.

Somehow Buzzfeed Unsolved Supernatural - it's sister show focused on.. well, supernatural stuff, and it's successor Ghost Files manages to be both scary, whilst also simultaneously very stupid and funny.

Both Shane and Ryan are always ready to be scared, but they're also both ready to laugh. They have a very endearing camaraderie too, like two kids in class trying to get the each other told off by the teacher, and despite the semi serious presentation, unlike Ghost Adventures they're not precious about trying to make sure you're scared. It invites you laugh and be afraid in equal measure, and it feels natural, especially in the early episodes. If Ryan is freaking out about the Waverly Hills Hospital body chute, it's because.. well.. watch the video? I would absolutely not go down there.

This tension between laughing and screaming drives the show. The balance between spooky-funny and spooky-scary is a delicate one. Ryan and Shane are great at knowing when to tip that balance, one way or the other.

It's easily the single biggest influence on Ghoulboys (I mean, of course it is?) because of this. When playing, you're always caught in this in-between moment that the Ghoulboys themselves do so well. Waiting for something to fall over, the spirit box to speak, the SLS scanner to show a fleeting figure. Whether it's scary or silly, your brain is waiting for it, ready to draw the shapes of ghosts we want to see.

Thank you for coming to my Ghost TED Talk

Man ghost stuff is so good, real or fake. I just wanted to make a funny game that occasionally made you raise your eyebrows and look at each other like "Oh, shit..." and had lots of stupid ghost hunting equipment, and I think it worked out. Thanks for reading.

Again, if you want to check out Ghoulboys, it's $5 until the end of the month. Take a look! There's a video of me and some friends playing it!

[myocsfanfictions]

The Wolf, the Stag and the Snake (Book 2)

ASOIAF Fanfiction

After the new King of the Seven Kingdoms killed Lord Stark, many things happened. Life is no longer how it used to be, with the War of the Five Kings beginning. Follow Antea Stark, Cassandra Baratheon, and Cyel Sand as they try to survive in a world that is becoming increasingly dark and dangerous.

MASTERLIST

《 Previous - Next 》

Chapter 4

ANTEA

“For all the gods, this is hard!” Antea complained as she tried to pull the arrow back to aim. But the movement was difficult to manage. Her back would scream if it could. “How do you make it seem so easy?” she heard Theon chuckle as he moved to get close to her.

“It is easy for me,” he said with his usual smirk that she had grown fond to look upon.

“Truly?” Antea asked, observing the arrow resting on the bow in her hands, “Your muscles do not ache afterward? Not even a little?”

Theon chuckled again, “When you have muscles, you get used to feeling them soar.” She knew he was mocking her.

“Are you implying that I lack muscles, my lord?” She said, turning to him. “That’d be rude.” Antea still had to fight the blush on her cheeks at having him close, but it was a sweet sensation. She longed for his closeness when they were apart.

He leaned forward, his eyes full of playfulness. “It was not my intent.” Her lips turned up into a little smile, something that Theon seemed to be able to make her do with ease.

“Oh, so you were just trying to show yourself off,” the lady said, fighting the blush from appearing on her cheeks as Theon was observing every corner of her face before tilting his head to one side.

“And if I was?” He asked.

“You’d be cocky,” she answered, owning another chuckle from him.

“Is it bad?” He was leaning over, and Antea could see him doing so.

“I’m growing quite fond of your attitude,” she admitted before he pecked her lips with a quick kiss. Her grey eyes widened.

“And of my kisses?” He asked, not moving away, “Are you growing fond of them?”

The sun had risen six times since their first kiss in Antea’s chamber. And now they had kissed many times, more than Antea cared to count. But she liked to feel him so close. She adored his touch against her skin. And it had become almost impossible not to share a kiss every time they had a chance to be alone.

“You are truly so cocky,” she said, her fingers brushing his cheek. Theon smiled, kissing her nose. “It’s part of my charm, my lady,” then he took her hand, “Come. Let me show you how it’s done one more time.”

Theon led her so that her back was facing his front. His hands moved to her arms, stopping on her shoulders before pulling them a little. Antea felt her heart beat fast as his hands moved back down, brushing her arms so that he could touch her hands.

“Pull back,” he said, helping her pull the arrow, “Now let the feathers brush your lips,” Theon was speaking in her ear, and she had to do all she could not blush, but it was difficult. No one had ever been so close to her. “Keep both your eyes open, and focus on the center of the target,” she did as he told her, focusing more on not tremble under his touch. She felt him smile, “Now take a deep breath,” and she did, “And release.” When she did, the arrow brushed her lips, and in just a blink of an eye, it hit the center of the target.

Antea smiled as she turned to Theon. " Do you think I can do it on my own?"

"Why? You got doubt, my lady?" He asked moving away to take another arrow, "That would be unlike you."

Antea lowered her gaze, "Maybe once," she admitted, "Lately, I'm full of doubts," Theon frowned, observing her.

"What troubles your mind?" He asked, his eyes never left her frame.

"You'll grow bored of me," she said shyly, "Always listening to my worries," the girl had not expected him to move closer to take one of her hands in his.

"I'd want for you to share everything with me," he said, the usual smile on his lips, "And after the affection that you are giving me, I could never grow bored of you," she blushed.

"Theon!" Her shyness made him chuckle. Then his hands moved to touch her face.

"Here it is," he said, looking into her eyes, "the smile I was longing for." She felt that her lips had curved up into a wide, genuine smile—a smile that was not burdened by all her worries—just a smile. How could he make her feel so light-hearted?

"Thank you," she said from the bottom of her heart. His lips turned up as he observed her face. His eyes looked at her in a way that made her think of the songs that Sansa loved so much. It made her heart beat fast with a sweet sense of happiness.

But that made her lower her eyes.

“What is it?” He asked as Antea moved back from his touch.

“My heart feels so heavy, Theon,” she admitted, turning her back to him. She wanted desperately to feel happiness, but it terrorized her at the same time: " Outside these walls, there’s a war. A war that had already taken my father. A war that could take away my brother. Or you…” she blushed at her admission.

“Is my life that makes your heart heavier?” Theon asked, his voice hinting at surprise as if he didn’t think she would ever say those words.

“The Blackfish is to return,” Antea explained, torturing her hands. If she had had to turn, her shyness would not have let her speak the words of her heart: “You’re part of his scouts.” She took a heavy breath. “I feel torn. Stuck between knowing that the war has to keep going and wanting all to stop. And feeling ashamed because I’d wish for everything to be over.”

“Ashamed?” He asked from behind her.

“My family is my life,” she said. Her eyes found her direwolf, who had appeared once again, looking at her with those golden eyes. "I’d do anything for them. But… is it selfish on my part to wish you and my brother away from the battlefield?” Antea heard him take some steps that brought him close to her frame. She closed her eyes when she felt his hands on her arms.

“Battle is a man's duty,” that made her turn to look at him.

“And weeping should be a woman’s duty, then?” she asked with wide eyes. Theon touched her face.

“Would you weep for me if I was to fall?” She knew he was trying to understand her feelings, but those words filled her with sorrow. The thought of Theon lying on the ground, lifeless.

“You’ve promised me you’d be with me for many years,” she remembered his words when he had held her in his arms after the bloody raven arrived with the words that had changed Antea’s life.

“And those words I shall keep,” Theon looked her in the eyes, “Antea. I never want to leave you,” her fingers went to his chest, loving the feeling of his body under her touch.

“I don’t want you to leave as well.”

The feelings of his caresses followed during the day when her presence was requested elsewhere and when his duty brought him to the King. Her fingers touched her lips, remembering every kiss that the two of them had shared, and she wished for more time alone with Theon.

“Am I falling in love, girl?” she asked Shadow as she caressed her black fur. She would have liked to speak with Cyel, her dearest friend. They had always shared their secrets and gave counsel to each other. She wondered what her friend, who was soon to become her sister, would have told her.

We all shall do our part, her mother’s words echoed in her mind, causing her body to feel cold.

Was she being foolish?

Love was not meant for people like her, her siblings, or Theon. Politics mattered the most, especially in times of war. Antea felt the need to get up from her bed, suddenly nervous. Shadow got up, walking beside her as Antea circled the chamber.

Her own twin brother was to marry a Frey girl. He yet had no idea who his bride would have been.

Was she being delusional?

What if politics brought her away from Theon? Her heart ached at the thought. Antea had made a vow to help her family before anything. But at the same time, she felt so much dread thinking about her being wed to another man. Or watching Theon to be wed to another girl.

Am I in love with Theon Greyjoy?

Love was not something for people like her. She knew it, yet it hurt.

That night, she dreamt of being Shadow again. Running in the gardens with her brother, howling at the moon, and wishing to be outside those walls, hunting. Wanting blood. Lannisters' blood. She liked those dreams. She felt so powerful in those dreams. She knew she should feel ashamed of dreaming of killing. But when she woke up from those dreams, she felt that if she were in front of Cersei Lannister, she would have been able to kill her. And that thought gave her peace.

Would my father feel ashamed of me? She thought saddly.

"Princess Antea," the following morning, the voice of the guard came from outside her door, "The King."

Antea got up to let her brother enter her room. Her brows frowned when she saw that Theon was with him.

"Good morrow, sister," Robb said, kissing her forehead. Grey Wind was quick to run inside to sit next to Shadow.

"Good morrow," she answered, unsure. Then she turned to Theon, who flashed her a smirk before bowing to her.

"My princess," Antea glared at him before turning to her brother.

"What is the matter?" she asked her twin brother. He took her hand, pulling her closer to him. His fingers brushed kindly against hers.

"I have a plan," he started to explain, "I need more people to fight against the Lannisters, so I'm planning on sending Theon to his father, Baelon Greyjoy, to Pyke to rally his family to my side." Antea fought her eyes so as not to move to look at the young Greyjoy. He would have gone for many moons away from the battlefield, and that thought made Antea feel relief. Even if the thought of him being so far away made her feel like a silly little girl wishing for him to be close to her.

"It sounds like a fair plan, Robb," she said, but then a frown formed on her face, "But why tell me?" He was not looking for counsel; he had already decided.

She did not miss the look that her brother and Theon exchanged before her brother turned to look at her.

"I'll agree to Lord Baelon being restored as King in the Iron Islands if he wishes for it," he said again, not making it clearer for Antea to understand. "Theon will succeed him one day, and that day, we'll ensure an alliance between two Kings through a marriage."

Her eyes widened, "Marriage?"

Robb nodded his head, "Yours and Theon's."

___________________________________________________________

If you'd like to be added to the taglist, please don't hesitate to let me know.

If you liked it, please leave a ♥️ and reblog!

[earth-unicorn]

Here it is friends.

Game Night 2

The second game had begun. Nora, Ren, Pyrrha, and Velvet sat around the table listening to Jaune's words as he described the battle that lay before them. Each player took turns attacking and defending. Victory was near, they could feel it.

Jaune: Ok Pyrrha it's your turn.

Pyrrha rolls a D20: Natural 20.

Nora: Hell yeah!!!

Ren: Congratulations Pyrrha.

Velvet clapping: Awesome!

Jaune: Well it definitely hits. It's also a crit. Roll for damage

Pyrrha rolls 10 D6: 60 points of damage. Doubled would be 120

Jaune: 120!!! How do you keep doing that?

Pyrrha: Doing what?

Jaune: You've rolled a natural 20 every round.

Pyrrha: Beginners luck I suppose.

Jaune: Well that's definitely enough to take him out. How do you want to do this?

Pyrrha: I don't want to kill him. I'd rather knock him out.

Jaune l: Ok. You charge the man, dodging his attack you spin around a slam the back of your spear into his head knocking him unconscious.

Ren: You've been rolling Natural 20 all night.

Nora: Are you cheating!

Pyrrha: No I swear I'm just rolling normally.

Jaune: It must be Destiny then.

Jaune looked Pyrrha in the eyes with a soft caring smile. Pyrrha looked away trying to hide the blush in her cheeks.

Nora: Jaune it's my turn!

Jaune: Right. What do you want to…

Nora: I'm going to attack the closest goon.

Jaune: Ok roll for your…

Nora stands up and throws the D20 against the table, watching it bounce around until it settles on 20.

Nora snappeds her head up towards Jaune: BREAK… HIS… LEGS!!!

Jaune: Um… the mans legs snapp under the wait of your hammer as swing down as hard as you can

Nora quietly repeating: Break his legs! Break his legs! Break his legs!

Jaune: Velvet it's your turn

Velvet: Is she ok?

Ren: She's fine. This is the only time that she actually gets to “break his legs” so she kinda loses it afterwards. She'll be like this for awhile. I'll tuck her into bed and she'll be asleep in no time.

Ren gets up and drags Nora over towards the beds.

Jaune: Ok Velvet it's your turn.

Team JNPR's door opens to reveal the rest of team CFVY.

Coco: Velvet it's time you come back to the dorm. It's getting pretty late and we have a mission tomorrow.

Velvet: Come on Coco at least let me finish my turn.

Coco sighing: Fine. Make it quick.

Velvet: Yes! I would like to attack that last guy.

Jaune: Roll for an attack.

Velvet rolls a D20: 12

Jaune: Sorry Velvet but that won't hit. It's the enemies turn now.

Jaune rolls a D20: 18

Velvet teary eyed: H-hit

Jaune: The man parries your attack and drives his blade forward into your chest. The attack drops your HP too 0 and kills you.

Velvet wipes her face and gets up from her seat: Ok C-Coco I'm done.

Coco doesn't budge from the door.

Coco glared at Jaune: Oh Hell no! We aren't leaving. Guys sit down it's our turn.

Jaune: What about your mission tomorrow?

Coco: Fuck the mission. Those assholes hurt Velvet. They will pay dearly for it.

Ren tucking Nora in: It's just a game.

Coco: Shut up! It's time for team CFVY to enter this fight. Start it over nerd.

The rest of team CFVY enter the room and take a seat at the table. Coco pulls Velvet back to her seat.

Coco sliding her sunglasses down: Let's do it the right way.

Author Note: I'll wait till tomorrow to post it on Twitter. It's 11:08pm and I'm tired. I'm going to bed

[soapier]

when it rains, it pours *ੈ✩‧₊˚ jschlatt, ted nivison

002. whatever.

link to 001. welcome back, slut!

constance mcmahon

today's the day of the party, and connie couldn't be more excited. she'd already picked out her outfit, invited her friends, and helped clean and decorate; all there's left to do is get ready, pregame and wait for people to show up.

she leaned forward, already cross-legged on the bathroom counter, tweezers poised to snag any loose eyebrow hairs she could pick out. music played off her speaker, and she could hear ted humming along to it in the shower. pausing for a sip of the rather heavy-handed jack and coke schlatt had made for her (quite the bartender!), she heard her phone buzz.

dayna:

what are u wearing tn?

connie:

jeans n a little green top, nothing special

do yk if hasan's coming tn? he never confirmed

dayna:

no clue

buuut i'll see u later!!!

with a groan of annoyance, connie threw her head back before continuing the attack on her eyebrows. the shower stopped and she watched as ted's hand snaked out to grab his towel, before emerging with it around his waist.

"what was that for?" he shot her a look, stealing a sip of her drink as she explained. "i, like, really want hasan to come tonight, because i think he's really cute, or whatever, but also don't say anything or i'll kill myself, but he like, he hasn't told me if he's coming and if i shaved for nothing i'm gonna be pissed!"

"someone got over alex fast," there was a tinge of annoyance, almost judgement in his voice, and he was suddenly stone-faced, fixing his hair in the mirror beside her. connie couldn't help but drag her eyes down his torso, noticing the dangerously low towel, before snapping out of it and defending herself.

"listen, i know you think it's just a stupid girl thing," ted simply hummed in response, " but i do think he's cute, and while i don't want a relationship yet, i think he's sweet, and i'd let him hit, but not with this lack of communication."

"do whatever you think is best, cons," ted gave up on his hair, adding, "but i just don't think he's good enough for you. if you asked schlatt, i bet he'd say the same thing."

he closed the door behind him, leaving connie alone in the steamy bathroom, wondering just what the fuck that was about. ted's never acted like that before, especially not towards her. maybe he's just stressed about the party? whatever.

but ted not thinking hasan's good enough for her?  is he her fucking dad? and schlatt agreeing, too, thats weird. she's fairly certain he would literally sell her off for the right price. she (finally) understood their distaste for alex, but isn't hasan their friend? connie didn't get it, and chose to simply focus on her makeup in the wake of his comment.

ੈ✩‧₊˚

the three roommates gathered at the folding table set up in their cramped living room, preparing to take a couple of shots before people started arriving.

"bro, why does it have to be tequila?" connie whined, shooting schlatt a dirty look. "because this is all that ted likes, so unless you'd like to shotgun a beer right now, i'd keep that pretty mouth of yours shut."

with that, the three raised their glasses to their lips in a race of who could get it down first, schlatt making fun of ted and connie's disgusted faces afterwards.

"fucking nasty!" connie complained, reaching for the seltzer she was using as a chaser. "don't be a baby, connie," ted told her, stealing a sip from yet another one of her drinks.

just as he finished, there was a knock at the door, signifying that the first of their guests had arrived.

"charlie!" connie squealed, darting over to greet the blonde man. though the two weren't particularly close, neither of them were super fond of crowds, meaning that they tended to spend a lot of time together at parties, at least when her ex-boyfriend wasn't around.

"conman!" the silly nickname never failed to make her smile. "no alex, tonight?" he sounded hopeful.

"even better," connie started, confusion creeping into charlies face. "no alex, ever."

charlie grinned and congratulated her. "are you a hugger? can i hug you? i am so happy for you, connie."

they shared a quick embrace, before charlie added, "i'm sorry if that was insensitive, it's just... that guy was a total dick!"

"so i've heard," connie laughed. "schlatt and ted shared the general consensus on him when i broke the news the other day."

she followed charlie to the sofa that had been shoved to the far side of the living room, catching one another up on their summers as more and more people filed in. once she was about five drinks deep, connie realized that she needed to go plug in her computer so it wouldn't die on aux, and excused herself from the conversation.

a friend of schlatt's, cooper, was tooling around with the queue from her laptop, not that she minded, it took the pressure off of her. they talked briefly, and she drunkenly giggled at a joke he made. connie ensured that her laptop was charging, and then spun on her heel, intending to grab herself another drink.

intending to.

instead, she walked straight into hasan.

"oh! hey, connie," he grinned, a hand finding the small of her back. "funny seeing you here."

"hilarious," she blew her bangs out of her face, shifting her weight towards him. "when did you get here? are you having fun?"

he guided her out of the kitchen, grabbing them both a can on the way. she read it, keystone light. ew. she looked up, eyes trailing a sharp jaw and broad shoulders, suddenly very aware of the arm gently wrapped around her torso.

a rap song played from the speakers on the counter, and connie wracked her brain for the name, anything to distract herself from either oogling hasan or being too forward. gotta play it cool, cons. be chill. she took a sip of the beer, making a face. it's definitely kanye, she concluded.

they joined the crowd in the living room, connie picking out familiar faces to ground herself. she saw schlatt dancing with her best friend in the corner, nothing too close, but close enough for her to take note. she saw ted in the corner with charlie, the two chatting animatedly.

connie felt hasan take her hand and spin her playfully as the chorus of "promiscuous" played throughout the house.

"i heard about you and alex," he said, leaning down so that she could hear over the noise. "if you need to talk, i'm always here."

connie felt her face heat up, his breath warm against her ear. "oh, thanks," she said, locking eyes with him, cheeks flushed red.

the pair danced for a while, before connie asked if hasan wanted to go for a smoke with her. agreeing, he grabbed her hand as she lead him up the stairs towards her bedroom.

halfway up, connie looked back to check in on hasan, or maybe she just wanted an excuse to look at him, but instead locked eyes with a cold-faced schlatt at the base of the stairs. breaking his stare, she watched as he walked off, and led hasan to her room, closing the door behind them.

"oh, feel free to sit down!" she gestured to her room rather grandly, giggling to herself as she got ready to roll. he took a seat right next to her on the bed, thighs touching as he watched her work.

"damn," connie hissed, "this is a lot harder when i'm drunk." she fumbled the paper again, dropping her project onto the tray.

she watched hasan's hand intently as he took the tray from her lap and set it aside. "we can try that again later?" he asked, brown eyes meeting hers. she felt his hand meet her jaw, guiding her up sweetly.

his lips met hers for possibly the hungriest kiss she'd ever felt. oh, she thought, this was way easier than i thought. melting into the moment, she almost didn't notice the banging on her door.

"connie!" she barely registered the voice calling her name from the other side of the door, pulling away from hasan for barely a second before her door bust open.

"connie!" schlatt's frame loomed large in the door frame.

"schlatt, what the fuck?" she slurred, feeling hasan take his hand out of her shirt.

"yeah, man, we're kind of busy here," hasan rubbed the back of his neck, clearly less than pleased with the situation.

schlatt sighed, saying, "hasan, you should go downstairs." he took a few steps forward to allow space for hasan to pass by, except for the fact that he's made no effort to get off of her bed. connie looked between the two, slightly slack-jawed, and utterly humiliated with the pissing contest taking place in her room.

"i said to fuckin' go downstairs!" there was a grit in his voice, and a couple more steps towards the pair.

clearing her throat, connie began to speak, "hasan, i'll catch up to you later, okay?" she searched his face for any sign of emotion, eyes pleading with him to just go, to avoid the fight that is clearly brewing.

with one more quick peck to her lips, he stood and promised to find her in a bit. connie watched him slink out of the room, schlatt closing the door behind him.

[caputgeratlupinum]

In which I (re) watch Robin of Sherwood

In the dim and distant past (of a few years ago) I started watching Robin of Sherwood. I dropped out after the end of season 2, when *events* happened (if you know, you know).

Anyway, this to say that I started watching it again, and I thought it would be fun to record my reactions to it. I remember it as being a good if slightly silly show, so... we'll see how it holds up.

EPISODE ONE - ROBIN HOOD AND THE SORCERER (PART 1)

We are starting off strong with the Ominous Bad Guy theme that sent me back to the last time I watched this with the force of a hammer (this show has about five soundtracks and they all come up like once an episode).

Our introduction to adult Robin is him running to the top of a... something, I'm not sure if it's a hill or a ledge or what. Anyway he runs there, stops, and screams 'MUCH!'. Which must be wildly confusing if you're not familiar with Robin Hood.

ITVX doesn't let me take screenshots (tragically) but I need you all to know that Guy of Gisborne looks about twelve and speaks like he went to fancy boarding school.

Hi Will Scarlet I have fond memories of you from last time! And I think this might be the first time he's 'scarlet' as in 'bloody' rather than named for his hair or clothes. Also the second Will tells them his name another man steps out of the shadows to introduce himself like he's desperate to get in on the action.

ROBERT! ROBERT! BY CHRIST ROBERT I WILL NOT LOSE MY FISHPOND! 10/10 introduction no notes. Genius move to give the Sheriff an annoying brother in the form of Abbot (??) Hugo.

Sheriff duties: keep on top of the poachers in the forest, and meet with the evil sorcerer baron and his... possessed slave? I'm vague on what position Little John holds here.

Sorry, Sir Evil Baron (yes I know his name is Simon de Bellame. I'm ignoring that), but I don't believe for a second that your wife taking her own life was nothing to do with you.

Did I mention Marian and Tuck are here? They are! I love them both very much.

I can't believe they that they just leave Rat Man and Arthur behind. I demand a spin-off about what happened to them.

'You're like a May morning.' *climbs out the window without another word* I mean to be fair to Robin if I tried that line I'd probably also flee immediately afterwards.

I really wish I could do screenshots because Herne the Hunter's vision of various events with Evil Baron's face over it all, slowly getter bigger and bigger, is truly a sight to behold. Robin honestly took that pretty well.

The classic bridge fight is very enjoyable but I am haunted by the knowledge of the blooper reel where Michael Praed gets hit in the balls. And Robin's dramatic scream as he falls off the bridge is sending me.

Last time I wasn't really sure how to feel about the Herne the Hunter stuff, and right now I'm in the same place. uhh... stag-man. With vague prophecies. I dunno... 'when the horned one possesses me' ok but who are you when he's not possessing you? How does one become possessed by the horned one in the first place (I know none of this is the point. I just have questions!)

If I were one of the merry men, I would find it easier to agree with Robin's Heroic Inspiring SpeechTM if it hadn't started with him explaining how he's been 'awakened' by a deer-headed man.

I feel like Will saying, 'You should have killed him. You'll have to someday.' is setting up for a conflict down the line where Robin has to make a Choice about Gisborne some day, but I don't remember any such plot.

aaand that's it! I didn't mention every single thing that happened, there's a lot happening in this episode. Genuinely had a good time though! Despite my poking fun at stuff, I do actually like this show.