#and it wasn't easy for me to get to that point i had to be Convinced. and allow myself to believe it possible

[chenlezip]

tell your friends ♡

PAIRING : fratboy!haechan x reader (lil bit of mark x reader too)

SUMMARY : you tell your friends you hate him but you can't get enough.

WARNINGS : smut, jealousy (i guess?), arguing, roughish haechan, mention of a one night stand, swearing.

A/N : heres part 2 finally !! part 1 is here <3 hopefully you guys enjoy this - obviously its clear i don't know how to write a part 2 but i did my best! im really bad with putting warnings so pls let me know if i've left anything out! love you all !!

karina looked up from her phone and you were already at the bar, glaring down haechan with a fiery gaze. she gulped, looking beside her to winter and she shrugged - there was nothing they could do now, you weren't going to back down.

you looked at haechan and the girl who was leeching off of him, her drunken giggles and words ringing in your ears. you scoffed and ordered a drink, "fratboys.." you mumble under your breath. haechan had obviously heard you though as he turns around and smirked, "something wrong?"

"what do you think?" he just chuckled softly in return to your cold tone of voice, he found it quite entertaining how easy it was to get under your skin. he could tell you were growing feelings for him in the times you've both shared and he couldn't lie.. he was starting to feel something for you too but his ego would never let him admit that out loud (maybe).

you just got up from the bar. if he wanted to play this little game, so could you.

you set your eyes on a cute boy, you knew he was close with haechan, mark lee. time to shoot your shot. you walk over to him, hips swaying as you walked, smiling at him. "hey, mark right?" you ask softly as the said latter turned his head to you, leaning down so his lips were hovering just near your ear, "yeah. i'm mark, you baby?"

you blush and you lean into him as well, "y/n." mark raised a brow - he recognised your name because of haechan but he wasn't going to complain if he had a chance with you tonight.

⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧｡⋆

haechan had noticed both you and mark, flirting with one another and the lingering touches that get a bit too touchy. you were currently sat on marks lap, leaning into him as his hand was on your thigh, rubbing your inner thigh. even your friends could see what you were doing - trying to get under haechan's skin like he was with yours.

before things could get any further between the both of you, haechan stormed over and grabbed your hand, pulling you away from mark. he lead you outside, you were trying to ask what he was doing but he didn't respond, he was too pissed to even think right now.

as soon as the cold air hit you this time though, you winced at how cold it became, it was a lot later in the night now. haechan let go of you and turned around, "so what was that with mark, huh?"

"what are you on about? as if you didn't have a girl leeching off of you half the night.. you have no right to act like this, lee donghyuck. i know your type and i kept reminding myself to not fall for a player like you yet i did. i went to mark because i was sick of it-" "oh so you just thought that you could do that type of shit with mark? when you were saying the last time we fucked that you were mine, do i need to remind you? trying to have a fucking one night stand with mark won't make you forget about me."

you scoffed, "you're so fucking full of yourself, what do you want from me at this point because you're pushing and pulling with me. i hate you. i will never find myself in your bed ever-fucking-again."

that was a lie. here you were now, in his bed as he tore his shirt over his head, throwing it to the floor and crawling between your legs. "say you want this, say you do and i'll remind you who you belong to but if you don't want this.. i'll get away from you."

you gulped, staring into his beautiful brown doe eyes as he looked down on you. you swore you wouldn't do this but he was too irresistible and he felt amazing.. your feelings for him also pushed you to the edge and you spoke up, "i do want this, please.. want you hyuck, fuck i need you so bad."

that was all he needed to hear before he was pulling your skirt up and moving your panties down your legs, throwing them somewhere on his floor. he unbuckled his jeans and pulled them down with his boxers, his dick slapping against his stomach. "you ready, baby? don't need to prep you do i?"

"no- no, you don't just.. please.." you begged. haechan bit his lip as he shoved himself inside of you, his dick stretching your walls so deliciously once again that he thought he was going to cum straight away. he had to inch himself slowly in you, bottoming out once he was fully inside and taking a breather, "you always swallow me in, your pussy always does this. it's like i haven't fucked you enough.."

a couple minutes later and he's pounding into you roughly, gripping your hair and shoving your head into his pillows. the sound of skin slapping and soft moans and groans to be heard echoing around his bedroom.

"didn't like seeing you with mark, the way he touched you made me crazy.. you're mine and only mine, understood? i can't get enough of you.." you moaned out in response, you couldn't speak, his dick making you dumb. he noticed this and chuckled, the feeling sending another wave of pleasure throughout you as you whimper, "hyuck.."

"hm? what's that baby? did you say something or have i fucked you dumb enough already?" he pulls your hair, pressing you up against his chest as he left small marks on your neck. "don't want you with anyone else.. swore i wouldn't like you but i ended up liking you anyway, didn't i?" he panted out, and you just let out a small whine, "hyuck.. please, can't last any longer.."

"wait until i'm gonna cum baby - won't be much longer, promise.. you feel so good, feel you clenching around me. listen to me and be a good girl, yeah? like you and this pretty pussy so much." he noticed your eyes closing and he tapped your cheek with his free hand, "come on baby, pay attention." he smirked. he moved it down to your clit, rubbing harsh circles.

you couldn't hold back, you shuddered as you felt your climax releasing on his dick, he groaned and let out a small whine, his dick twitching inside of you as he released. he muttered out that he couldn't help but like you, you're perfect for him. he rode you through your high before pulling out and staring at your fucked out state.

"fuck.." he whispered as he grabbed a towel from his dresser, cleaning you up and laying you comfortably on his bed. he always took such good care of you after he was rough, giving you princess treatment.

"hyuck?" you ask softly as he looked at you, "mm-hmm?"

"do you really like me? i'm not just someone you're messing with?" "we'll talk about this tomorrow when you're tired, okay?" he responded and you just replied with a nod. he shuffled into his bed beside you, pulling you closer by your waist and pressing your body against his, "promise i'll tell you how i really feel, 'kay?"

[stuntdemon-6]

How could i let this happen?

Game of Thrones (show) fanfic. Robb Stark/reader. No use of y/n. Angst, hurt/comfort. 2,000+ words.

Tw - Non graphic injuries, talk of death and losing a spouse (although no one dies in this fic).

Summery - Robb returns from a battle to news of his wife, the reader, getting attacked while he was gone. He rushes to her side, driven by fear and anger and a deep seated guilt for having let any harm come to her. His mind is clouded by emotions and the only thing he can think about, the only thing he cares about, is making sure this his queen is alright. He couldnt bear the thought of losing her.

---

Robb didn’t wait for the soldier to explain what had happened. He heard the words “Queen” and “injured,” and was already on the move towards her tent. Thankfully the soldier got the message and started walking along next to him, filling in the details as they went. Robb crossed the camp in swift, long strides. His focus narrowing down to a pinprick, thinking only of his lovely wife. His injured wife. 

The Lannisters had sent a small team of soldiers away from the battle, Robb’s man told him. Small enough that they were able to move in secret. They infiltrated the camp while most of the men were fighting. They had only one goal, only one target.

The Lannisters meant to break him with this, he knew. That was the only reason they would send operatives to kill his Queen. They meant to take his love from him, to tear out one of the last remaining shreds of light in his life, to leave him as a shell of the King he was before. Robb’s hand tightened around the hilt of his sword until his knuckles turned white. He could scarcely breathe, let alone think straight. There was a fog clouding his mind. He wasn't sure if it was from fear or rage. Either way, it didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was getting back to his wife. He threw open the tent flap, startling the occupants in his haste, but he paid little mind to that. A collection of soldiers stood inside, the small group that he had left behind to guard her while he was away on the battlefield, and every single one of them reached for their weapons before quickly realizing who he was and bowing. He didn't acknowledge them. Not yet. His eyes were fixed on his wife. 

She sat on the bed, propped up by pillows that she leaned heavily on as if lacking the energy to hold herself upright. There was a pristine white bandage wrapped tightly around her shoulder, and a sling holding her arm close to her chest. The healers had already seen to her, thank the Gods.

The sight of her, his lovely wife, his queen, in such a state had the anger bubbling in his chest reaching a boiling point. He whirled around on the men in the tent and roared, “What is the meaning of this? What kind of men let their queen be harmed on their watch?” 

“Robb,” His wife’s soft voice cut through the air, but he just shook his head.

His fists were clenched and shaking at his sides. Standing at his full height, still in his armor with blood splattered on him from the battle he’s just fought, he was a truly intimidating sight. The righteous anger of a King was not an easy thing to be faced with. The soldiers shrank back. “I entrusted you with her care, and you allowed Lannister men close enough to touch her. Tell me, were my orders unclear? Did I not specifically charge you all to protect her with your lives?” 

“Robb.” His wife spoke again, but her voice was stronger this time. He felt her hand close around his wrist and turned to face her. She had pushed herself off of the pillows to reach towards him. There was sweat beading on her brow, but she met his gaze steadily, and he could already feel his fury fading. A beat passed without anyone making a sound. Then, still holding his wrist in her hand, she turned to address the soldiers, “Leave us.”

The men, not daring to disobey their Queen and more than a little eager to get away from their King’s wrath, wasted no time in bowing and exiting the tent.

Robb couldn't look away from her. His eyes stayed glued to her face as the men took their leave. He listened to their footsteps fade away before releasing a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, “I could have them in chains for this.” He bit out, but there was less heat to his words now.

His wife shook her head, replying with ease, “They’ve done nothing wrong.”

“How can you say that?” He retorted, “They had orders to protect you, and they didn't. You’re lying in a sickbed because of their incompetence.”

“They tried to protect me.” She says patiently.

“They failed.”

“If they hadn't been there, i would have died.” More than likely, she meant to reason with him, to assuage his anger with logic. But her words did not have the desired effect. 

He flinched as if her statement were a physical blow. She was right, he knew, and he despised it. Those Lannister men had meant to kill her. They meant to take her from him. And they could have succeeded. As much as it pained him to see her like this, he could have been facing a far worse reality. The thought of returning from the battle to find her lying dead tore at his heart. 

Likely seeing the turmoil on his face, her expression softened. Her grip on his wrist gentling slightly. “I’m alright, love.” 

“You nearly werent.” He didn't mean to argue, but the words came out anyway.

“But I am.” She insisted. Then, after a pause, he watched her expression set in that way it always did when an idea came to her. He felt a tug at his wrist and his brow furrowed. Curious about what she was trying to do. He let her guide his hand to rest on her side, his palm splayed right over where her ribcage was. He could feel the steady beat of her heart through the fabric of her dress. The feeling of it, the reminder that she was still alive, still right there with him, had his breath coming a little easier. Some of the tension bleeding out of his frame. 

He moved to sit on the bed with her, not taking his hand off of her, unwilling to lose that connection and the reassurance it provided just yet. In the privacy of the tent, now, with only his loving wife to see, he let his shoulders droop. Dropping the kingly facade that he had to maintain around everyone else. He released a shaky breath, tearing his gaze away from hers as guilt began to claw at him. Staring down at the floor, he whispered, “How could I let this happen?” 

“This isn't your fault.”

“What sort of King am I, if I can't even keep my Queen safe?” 

She just shook her head, “This isn’t your fault.” When he still didn't seem convinced, still refused to lift his eyes from the floor as the weight of his failure continued to crush him, she reached out again. Her hand coming to rest on his cheek and gently urging him to meet her gaze again.

Robb was never good at denying her what she wanted.

He looked to her and his breath caught in his throat at what he found in her eyes. So full of love and care, a clear desire to reassure and comfort, but most strikingly a determination that he’s come to know well in their time together. His lovely wife had the kind of empathy that wouldn't let her rest until those she cared about were at ease again. He knew she wasn't going to let him harbor this guilt that she believed wasn't his to carry. Even if she had to sit here and argue for hours, use all of her wits and her most persuasive arguments to defend him to himself, she would see it through. 

Gods, what had he ever done to deserve her?

“Robb, you couldn't have known this was going to happen today.” She began, speaking in a low and soothing tone, “You took every precaution you thought was necessary. We both thought that I would be safe here. At least as safe as one can be during a war. You aren’t inside of Tywin Lannisters mind, you had no way of knowing that he was planning this. He’s the one at fault. Him and the men he sent to kill me. Men who are already dead and gone, cut down by the soldiers that you left here to protect me. They did their duty. And you did yours. I’m alive because you had the foresight to make sure that I wasn't left vulnerable while you were gone.”

Doubt and guilt still clung to his mind, but he couldn't find the words to argue against her. He didn’t have the heart to. Not when she was so set on convincing him not to blame himself. She looked so beautiful with that fierce kindness shining in her eyes, the determined set in her jaw even as her voice stayed soft and comforting. There was a conviction laced through her voice that proved she truly meant what she was saying. Not that Robb doubted it, he knew she wasn't the type to spout out pretty words that she didn't mean just for the sake of comfort. 

He wasn't convinced. He couldn't be, with her sitting in front of him wrapped in bandages and running out of energy by the minute. He swore to protect her when they wed and ever since, even the slightest pain or threat to her felt like he was failing to uphold that oath. But he was powerless in the face of her unwavering belief in him. Her support, understanding, and love. There was no possible way he could bring himself to press the issue with her, now. He nodded, watching the satisfaction in her eyes at having made her case well. Still, enough concern stayed at the forefront of his mind that the next words out of his mouth were, “I’m doubling your guard.” He spoke softly at first, but when he saw her mouth twist into a frown and that cute little line appear between her now furrowed eyebrows, his voice took on a firmer note. “That's not up for negotiation. Now that we know you’re a target for our enemies, I cannot leave you unprotected for a moment. You will have guards with you any time we are apart. And I will leave twice as many men to watch over you during battles from now on.”

She let out a sigh, no doubt seeing the futility in arguing over this, “If it will put you at ease, then alright.” He couldn't help the wry twist of his lips, “My love, I will not be at ease until the war is won. Until you and everyone else that I hold dear are safe at last. Home at Winterfell, where I can hold you in my arms and never have to leave your side again.”

“Well, one of those things can be accomplished now.” She responded with a small smile, before promptly shifting to make room for him to lie down next to her.

His wry smile morphed into a genuine one, an expression somewhere between fond and amused, “I’m still in my armor, dearest. I don’t want to get blood all over the sheets.”

“Then take your armor off already, and join me, my love.” She insisted, already lying back and getting comfortable under the furs.

Robb let out a low chuckle, teasing, “As my queen commands.” 

He stripped off the heavy, bloodstained armor with practiced ease, setting it to the side to be dealt with later. He laid his sword on the table as well. Always near enough that he can grab it if need be, he never could relax these days without having a weapon within arms reach. Before long, he was crawling into bed beside his lovely wife. She lifted the furs for him to climb underneath. He wasted no time in wrapping his arms around her, and felt her burrow into his chest as if it were the only place in the world where she belonged. 

It didn't take away the pain of the day. It didn't chase away the persistent gnawing sense of fear that seemed to be his constant companion since the war began. But he put those thoughts out of his mind as best he could, and focused only on the warmth of his wife's body in his arms. He tucked her close to him and rested his chin on top of her head, breathing in her scent, and silently thanking the Gods for probably the thousandth time for sending her to him.

[leviathans-watching]

how do you feel about om! ending?

lololol frankly i think it should have ended a long time ago...

its obvious that i haven't really interacted with obey me in a long time and honestly it's because i didn't care for where the story went. not only do i not like nightbringer and thought it was a poor choice from the beginning, i also think the main story didn't need as many seasons as it got, especially because the characters got assassinated and flanderized, story lines were messy, dropped, or irrelevant, and overall, it was just never as interesting as the original story arc.

it's easy to point out flaws in each season, including season one, but at least it had heart and intention. season two has merit to me simply because i think the human realm part was interesting, but overall, i think it peaked in the original 20 lessons and just kind of tapered off from there. there are some exceptions where things got interesting again, like the addition of thirteen, mephisto, and raphael, but overall, i much preferred the limited story we were originally given.

i think also the limited gameplay mechanics really harmed the game in the long run (hence why they kept adding things and even made completely new ones in nightbringer), but as an og player (seriously, og, i began playing it the month it was released) it got boring. another part of being an og is that it was frustrating watching the devs get greedy especially as quality plateaued (or even went down) and players concerns (like the racism and whitewashing) weren't addressed well

additionally, as the story went on, i lost interest in the characters because they weren't developed in any meaningful way. i've stated before that the characters i write for are almost separate entities from the canon ones and that's because i based them off of the original season one versions and they've changed soooo much since then, especially considering nightbringer (but also i didn't play nightbringer so i could totally be talking out of my ass but i feel like the premise itself inherently changes the characters since it's a different version of the ones we know and love from the og game)

it may seem like i'm being a little harsh, and honestly i am since i do have a genuine love for the game even if a lot of my passion has faded, but i'm very very bitter about where the game went and greatly mourn what we could have gotten if things were different. i still am fond of the original arc and characters but so much time has passed since then and so much has changed with the game and the fandom that i don't think i'll ever love it like i used to. anyway rant over, mammon is the loml, and it's touching to see so many current fans mourn the game because i love that people still love it and see so much magic in it <3

(obligatory if you like the later seasons/nightbringer/where the story went/etc all the power to you it just wasn't my cup of tea in the end)

[drdemonprince]

Christmas PTSD steam bath anon reporting back to let you know that my friend and I finally went!! We had to reschedule bc of COVID which sucked but we missed any opportunity for me to get triggered so it kind of worked out. My friend is a much older man and it was so fun to be his arm candy fuck toy and not have anyone else touch me. I'm transmasc and was the only visibly trans person there, I taped my chest and wore a jock strap so I was more comfortable. I still obviously didn't pass as a cis male which I can get really in my head about other people seeing my body and interpreting my gender Wrong, even if it's just in their head and I'm not going to interact with them. But! I was able to let go and just focus on how hot I am! I wasn't even misgendered as much as I thought I would be. We attracted a lot of attention, at some points when we were playing we had literal hordes of men following us jerking off, which we both thought was hot but my partner was a little overwhelmed by it so we'll try to go back on a couple's night instead. Overall, there weren't as many lecherous/creepy people as I thought there'd be, and the staff were very attentive which made me feel safe. We went on an all gender night and it was also really cool to see the variety of personalities and body types etc! Thank so much for your encouragement, I'm so glad I went :)

Yay, fantastic work to both of you. It's easy to get creeped out by a bunch of dudes following you and jerking off (LOL) but it's ultimately a bunch of queer people appreciating one another from within an explicitly erotically charged environment, and the freedom to be openly desirous of people in a queer way is what makes it so safe, liberating, and historically important. Glad you had a supportive partner with you there to help make testing the waters (and the steam) a little more comfortable, and no Simply Having a Wonderful Christmastime jump scares

[amygdalae]

Is finding the right person that easy or are you insanely lucky?

i think I just got really lucky. I mean I've been single for years before this with terrible luck wrt dating

I met this guy in my (really awful, worst professor I've ever had) stats class last semester; the first few weeks of a semester I tend to put extra effort into my outfits and like 2 weeks in he came up to me b4 class to say he noticed my outfits and loved what I did w accessories and whatnot. It struck me as a thoughtful compliment. Ashamed to admit I decided to keep dressing well cuz I'm an attention whore and he was hot

I wasn't really expecting the attention but we ended up chatting before and after class a lot throughout the semester and slowly got a lil bit closer. I usually go into most classes wanting to keep my head down cuz I'm a bit shy but he seemed chill and easy to talk to which coaxed me out of my shell a bit.

I kept thinking I was for sure getting flirty vibes but I was worried it was wishful thinking cuz he's so cute. At one point though I noticed him like. Slowly shamelessly eye me up and down which was a good indicator. And then when we were talking he told me I have a cool brain and I was like 🤯

Eventually we had a study group where it was finally like ok he's definitely flirting with me so afterwards I texted him saying we shld get a drink sometime and he agreed and now we've had 4 dates! I just lucked out that he's also bi and likes video games and is a switch like me

Anyways he's a fun hot goofy weirdo pervert. I dunno if he's the "right" person cuz capital L Love and commitment might not be in the cards here but we're having a sexy and romantic time and the connection is definitely deeper and more intimate than a mere fwb deal so I'm satisfied

Oh Christ sorry for the essay lol but TL;DR the moral of the story is put yourself out there. I might not have seen this guy again had i not asked him out; I almost didn't cuz I was so nervous. I've been trying to let my hunger for human connection take the reigns over my anxiety which is fucking hard but has been immensely rewarding

[otomiyaa]

Forgive | Vander x Silco (alt. timeline)

Random drabbles 4/?

Music, dancing, loud cheers. Tonight was definitely a good night.

But....

Vander watched Ekko and Powder in the distance. Powder was like herself, even more lively than before, but something was off about Ekko.

He caught himself staring at the guy until Silco stood next to him and patted his shoulder.

"Hey. Don't worry. He's just tense about the competition," he said, as if reading his mind. Vander nodded. Yeah that might be the case. Still, his comment just now had been a little sudden and rude.

"I liked your answer though," Vander said, putting down the glass he just dried before heading off to the storage to fetch some more booze. Silco chuckled and followed him.

"Hm? What answer?" he asked, even though Vander was sure he remembered it correctly. He just wanted to hear him repeat it.

"Greatest thing we can do in life... is find the power to forgive."

Vander stood in the storage while Silco stood by the door. "I don't think I ever thanked you properly. For forgiving me."

Silco hummed. "Many times, Vander. You did thank me. You also tried to kill me multiple times, remember?" he said. Vander frowned. Multiple times?

He then suddenly felt Silco's hands latching onto his sides in an attempt to tickle him. In a swift move, Vander turned around and pinned him against the wall - a little too enthusiastically as they knocked over a few bottles of which at least one broke.

"Wow wow, easy thehere!" Silco laughed. Vander now understood.

"You mean this?" He tickled both Silco's sides and laughed right along with him. The cheerful sounds coming from Silco were such a delight after all.

"R-rihihight! You're so slohohow!"

Vander smirked. He had indeed tickled him to death many times before. And man, it never got old. If Silco didn't dislike it, he wouldn't provoke him like this.

He looked over his shoulder and when he didn't hear Benzo or any impatient customers calling for him, he quickly clawed up Silco's ribs until he slid to the floor. There Vander bent over him and tickled him mercilessly.

The music and loud voices at the party were enough to give them a little moment of privacy. Enough privacy for him to make Silco laugh until he thought it fit the definition of 'getting tickled to death'.

"Vahahaander okahahay - mahahade your pohohoint!" Silco cackled tiredly. Vander chuckled and patted his back.

"My point? I think I made yours. You forgive me everytime I do this. Must really enjoy it that much, huh?" Vander gave Silco one last poke, got back up and finally picked up the stuff he came to grab.

Silco breathed tiredly and shrugged. "F-fair enough," he answered. "To be honest, there's nothing else that can make me laugh anyway."

Vander glared at him. "You're saying my jokes are bad?"

"The worst."

They both stared at each other before Vander laughed. If he wasn't careful, they were going to be stuck here for the remainder of the night.

"Remind me to punish you for that one later," he said, and he finally went back to work.

Funny thing: he knew Silco would remind him one way or another.

And even if he didn't, well... Vander would surely not forget to tickle him to death again.

[nobredoesart]

"Getting Used To", a Lightcannon Snip

-

It dawned on her that having the barrel of a gun absentmindly whipping back and forth in front of her face was not something that she should get used to. No, there was, in no point in all her schooling and independent studies, nor in all her combat training, in which anyone could've prepared her for the reality that 'barrel of magical gun waving across her face' wouldn't be her main concern, or even in the consideration of such. But Lux couldn't blame herself, and in her totally unbiased opinion, she didn't think anyone else would blame her.

"-and so I said, 'what's wrong with my pants?' and she has the gall to call them a half chewed circus tent! It was ridiculous," continued Lux's source of concern, with her voice infused with bewildered offense. Her blue hair had been getting longer, and as she gesticulated, it flopped, lit by mage-light.

Yes, Lux's concern was not the fact that the woman had a makeshift scrap gun limply dangling from her fingers. It was the fact that Lux couldn't physically stop staring at her glowing violet eyes, shimmering with a light of their own, or the tiny markings on her face that hinted at freckles, or the way her nose got scrunched up when she had said 'pants'. Lux knew it wasn't magic. She knew, but at this point, she'd be willing to say that Jinx might have developed a new branch of it because the blonde mage could not look away.

That isn't even to get her started on the fact that in spite of the cool air of fresh winter, her companion was still only wearing a leather crop top, and a loose jacket that Lux had thrown at her when they first started the climb. Her tattoos alone tormented Lux in a way that no petricide infused nightmares could ever hope to achieve.

So, no, Jinx's gun didn't concern Lux at all.

"Ya think my pants look cool, don't ya, blondie?"

"Of course, Jinx." The words came automatically (not that they weren't true), and Lady Luxanna Crownguard forced herself to not stare at the way the other woman subtly seemed to soften at those words. "I do think we could get you another set that is slightly warmer though."

Jinx's eyebrow rose. "Why? Told ya already, Sunshine, I don't get cold easy. It's all part o' the package the good doctor gave me." She drummed her fingers across her thigh, as she slid with a feline grace across the tree stump they had been sharing closer to her. "Ya gettin' cold, blondie?"

The young mage could feel herself warming up, in fact, but it wouldn't do to let the smug Zaunite know that. They smelled fear. Worst of all, they smelled embarrassment.

"That's two separate nicknames in one sentence, Jinx." Lux idly looked at her nails. "Or should I say-"

"Don't you dare-"

"-Sweetcheeks?"

Ducking purely out of habit is what saved the blonde from getting glomped by a shimmer induced Jinx, and even that was a feat. Her fingers twitched and a light barrier bloomed into existence as a furiously red Jinx shoved her face against the clear surface.

Lux's ears filtered out the string of idle threats and embarrassed pounding on the barrier, along with a truly impressive number of cuss words in languages the Demacian had no idea Jinx even knew (who in the Veiled Lady's name knew Rivertongue?) as her concerning reaction to the woman came back full force.

Here, in this small clearing in the middle of the forest stretching deep into uncharted lands, with a cracking mage-fire warming the cool air, travel packs dangling idly from the top of the trees, beautiful stars dancing overhead, all that Lux could focus on was Jinx.

Lux had been desperately dreaming of travelling and seeing all the wonders of the world since she was a babe. Since she knew what it meant to adventure, since Garen had first snuck her into the family library to show her an atlas of Valoran, since she had been told that she was to stay in the estate and manage it like a lady should. That dream had never died, even through all the turmoil the family endured, even through the horrors of shackled boredom in the Crownguard Estate. It had been fostered in her journals, and her travels to the capital, and the few conversations she would snag from the trade-folk that she would meet throughout the years.

And she was finally doing it! Not under ideal circumstances (considering the whole outlaw status, and their slowly dwindling coin), but her feet were out the door, and the winds smelled of change (and pine trees if she was honest)!

But all thoughts of adventure seemed secondary to the overwhelming feeling of devotion and fondness that overtook the mage every time she felt Jinx nearby. It felt like dreaming, the soft haze of light and wonder and the thrill of something more, and it dwarfed the excitement for freedom by a metric she couldn't even fathom.

"Lux, I swear to my guns, dead and alive, that you will sleep alone tonight if you don't lower this barrier, right now!"

So yeah, maybe I should be a little concerned, the blonde thought as the light barrier faded away, replaced very quickly by an armful of flushed Jinx.

But if it meant she could see her girl snarling at her while distracting wrapping her arms around Lux? It was a concern she could get used to.

[quackity1999]

can you tell us more about your time with karl and sapnap? Sorry if that's a sensitive topic :)

[ quackity buries his face in his hands. sighing. ]

fuck it. why not.

one of my best memories of them was when sapnap set the bed on fire. that was back in the early stages of our relationship, when i still flinched away from karl's hands and sometimes refused to sleep in their bed based off my belief of not deserving it. i was sleeping dead centre of the bed that night, y'know. wings stretched out over their backs. karl screamed like a little girl when i shook him awake, and sapnap was laughing through his apologies while i jumped around like a fucking lunatic. the sheets did not survive.

sapnap used to blow fire on his steak to cook it but it only cooked one side — so me and karl had to help him through food poisoning on the regular, which was kinda funny. karl often casually braided his hair while sapnap was puking his guts out in the bathroom, and i was busy in the doorway judging them. lovingly.

but it wasn't easy to transition into a . . genuinely kind relationship after what i had with schlatt.

i didn't let them preen me for about 3 and a half months. one time i had a nightmare, woke up and was briefly convinced i was back to sleeping with schlatt. ha. awkward. there was moonlight coming in the window; karl moved to sit in it just so that i could see his face and figure out that it was really him. just, y'know. super patient with me, talking about something to distract me, a story or some shit. reminding me of stuff we all did together.

anyway— i had nightmares. i had flashbacks, i would try and sabotage a lot of our relationship to test them, almost.

it wasn't the best approach.

but eventually we figured out ways to accommodate everyone. sapnap taught me how to deal with blazes in the nether. he was encouraging and supportive even if i kept failing. karl and i used to have these, like, pamper sessions while sapnap was being a greasy gamer boy in the living room. i was chilling out in the bath with some red wine in a glass and karl was standing in front of the mirror trying to style his hair — we had those face mask things on and everything.

we used to have game nights that sometimes turned into “who can make up the best pick up line”. and it would end with sapnap losing, storming off with fired up fingers and smoke pouring out of his mouth, sooo, like. karaoke nights were the definitive best option for us.

on that note, karl's hands were always freezing cold, and sapnap's were warm due to the whole blaze hybrid thing; they weren't the greatest at preening my wings for a lengthy time, but they were good at it. sapnap ended up buying gloves so the heat was more contained, and was always more gentle than karl with them but karl did try his best— he'd point out if the feathers were sitting wrong, catch me if i dozed off or just kept up conversation.

karl's eyes used to glow when he zoned out — sometimes he'd get really bad. i had to shake his shoulders a bit, pat his face. croon to him and wait it out. one time i found him at the fridge; he had just grabbed orange juice, right, but he hadnt moved any further from that point. i kept him company, shut the fridge and got him sitting down as best as i could. took around 30 minutes to bring him back.

one thing i do miss is sapnap lighting my cigs with his fingers. pfft. it's a tactic he used to flirt with me back then, and it absolutely worked.

but— uh. yeah. there's some history.

. . they were good to me, until they didn't see the point anymore. that's what it was. despite all of this, despite the love they had, i wouldn't go back. i couldn't.

and i'm never forgiving them.

[beautifuloxymoron]

When the Phone Rings - Finale.

After thinking it over and sitting with the ending of When the Phone Rings, here are my overall thoughts on the show. I liked it. Yes, even with that ending. I knew after the 1st ep that I will not take the show as some sort of "serious" kdrama and readied myself for a the show to have somewhat of a makjang or exaggerated narratives twang to it...

While this show wasn't a full blown makjang which I appreciate, because frankly that is just not cup of tea, it really did immerse me into the world that they created.

Was I a bit disappointed? Yes. In my opinion, the ending needed heavy reworking, and frankly I think the show would have benefited if it was extended to 14 episodes to better flush out the remaining plots.

Writing wise, I really disliked that the writer pull the noble idiocy trope last minute. They were communicating so well in the previous episodes… So what changed? I also think the ending with the "real" Baek SaEon his mother was lackluster. He was tormenting the main leads, constantly threating their lives whole lives throughout the show and yet we only hear/see quickly that he died on scene. I felt that the way it was shot/written, just left me feeling a bit unsatisfied - felt a bit to easy. I would have also loved to see a scene to provide more insight to the extended family, especially Hong In Ah.

I think with extended episodes it would have let the writer breathe and write a ending that didn't include unnecessary tropes & convince them that adding the war torn country plot was a not a good idea b/c let's be frank the fuck was that? I know it was taken from the novel but …. omitting it would have been 1000% better.

Episodes 1-10 were fantastic. Starting from ep 11, you could tell plot became a bit strained. As for the last episode, the beginning was good - brilliantly acted by Chae Soo Bin, Middle -I'm erasing it from my memory and end was fantastic. I wished writers could learn that what the audience wants is to see the leads thrive and be happy, and yes, showing the characters happy for the the whole last episode is acceptable. Other than that the overall plot was fun. It was INSANE but fun.

Also, the acting really carried the show. Point blank, without the brilliant acting of Yoo Yeon Seok & Chae Soo Bin, the show would have me saying ahnyeong by ep 2. The dialogue had to have someone execute the lines with a certain "swagger" or precision for me to not find it overly cheesy and frankly believable.

So, would I recommend When the Phone Rings to someone?… I would… with a warning. While the ending may have people thinking it was a waste of time, which is perfectly fine, everyone's opinion is valid, I rather enjoyed it until the end.... Maybe it's because I usually drop shows when I get bored of them, which unfortunately happens often.

overall rating - 8/10

I also bring you my visual representation of my thoughts...

[inkskinned]

the thing about art is that it was always supposed to be about us, about the human-ness of us, the impossible and beautiful reality that we (for centuries) have stood still, transfixed by music. that we can close our eyes and cry about the same book passage; the events of which aren't real and never happened. theatre in shakespeare's time was as real as it is now; we all laugh at the same cue (pursued by bear), separated hundreds of years apart.

three years ago my housemates were jamming outdoors, just messing around with their instruments, mostly just making noise. our neighbors - shy, cautious, a little sheepish - sat down and started playing. i don't really know how it happened; i was somehow in charge of dancing, barefoot and laughing - but i looked up, and our yard was full of people. kids stacked on the shoulders of parents. old couples holding hands. someone had brought sidewalk chalk; our front walk became a riot of color. someone ran in with a flute and played the most astounding solo i've ever heard in my life, upright and wiggling, skipping as she did so. she only paused because the violin player was kicking his heels up and she was laughing too hard to continue.

two weeks ago my friend and i met in the basement of her apartment complex so she could work out a piece of choreography. we have a language barrier - i'm not as good at ASL as i'd like to be (i'm still learning!) so we communicate mostly through the notes app and this strange secret language of dancers - we have the same movement vocabulary. the two of us cracking jokes at each other, giggling. there were kids in the basement too, who had been playing soccer until we took up the far corner of the room. one by one they made their slow way over like feral cats - they laid down, belly-flat against the floor, just watching. my friend and i were not in tutus - we were in slouchy shirts and leggings and socks. nothing fancy. but when i asked the kids would you like to dance too? they were immediately on their feet and spinning. i love when people dance with abandon, the wild and leggy fervor of childhood. i think it is gorgeous.

their adults showed up eventually, and a few of them said hey, let's not bother the nice ladies. but they weren't bothering us, they were just having fun - so. a few of the adults started dancing awkwardly along, and then most of the adults. someone brought down a better sound system. someone opened a watermelon and started handing out slices. it was 8 PM on a tuesday and nothing about that day was particularly special; we might as well party.

one time i hosted a free "paint along party" and about 20 adults worked quietly while i taught them how to paint nessie. one time i taught community dance classes and so many people showed up we had to move the whole thing outside. we used chairs and coatracks to balance. one time i showed up to a random band playing in a random location, and the whole thing got packed so quickly we had to open every door and window in the place.

i don't think i can tell you how much people want to be making art and engaging with art. they want to, desperately. so many people would be stunning artists, but they are lied to and told from a very young age that art only matters if it is planned, purposeful, beautiful. that if you have an idea, you need to be able to express it perfectly. this is not true. you don't get only 1 chance to communicate. you can spend a lifetime trying to display exactly 1 thing you can never quite language. you can just express the "!!??!!!"-ing-ness of being alive; that is something none of us really have a full grasp on creating. and even when we can't make what we want - god, it feels fucking good to try. and even just enjoying other artists - art inherently rewards the act of participating.

i wasn't raised wealthy. whenever i make a post about art, someone inevitably says something along the lines of well some of us aren't that lucky. i am not lucky; i am dedicated. i have a chronic condition, my hands are constantly in pain. i am not neurotypical, nor was i raised safe. i worked 5-7 jobs while some of these memories happened. i chose art because it mattered to me more than anything on this fucking planet - i would work 80 hours a week just so i could afford to write in 3 of them.

and i am still telling you - if you are called to make art, you are called to the part of you that is human. you do not have to be good at it. you do not have to have enormous amounts of privilege. you can just... give yourself permission. you can just say i'm going to make something now and then - go out and make it. raquel it won't be good though that is okay, i don't make good things every time either. besides. who decides what good even is?

you weren't called to make something because you wanted it to be good, you were called to make something because it is a basic instinct. you were taught to judge its worth and over-value perfection. you are doing something impossible. a god's ability: from nothing springs creation.

a few months ago i found a piece of sidewalk chalk and started drawing. within an hour i had somehow collected a small classroom of young children. their adults often brought their own chalk. i looked up and about fifteen families had joined me from around the block. we drew scrangly unicorns and messed up flowers and one girl asked me to draw charizard. i am not good at drawing. i basically drew an orb with wings. you would have thought i drew her the mona lisa. she dragged her mother over and pointed and said look! look what she drew for me and, in the moment, i admit i flinched (sorry, i don't -). but the mother just grinned at me. he's beautiful. and then she sat down and started drawing.

someone took a picture of it. it was in the local newspaper. the summary underneath said joyful and spontaneous artwork from local artists springs up in public gallery. in the picture, a little girl covered in chalk dust has her head thrown back, delighted. laughing.

[etrosgate]

discussing soriku endgame actually with fellow believers

[sunlitmiracle]

Day 2 Engineer claiming can lead to the fastest own-goals

bonus: I scuffed this round because I was convinced Yuriko was yet again Gnosia when she was going after Setsu, so I helped run a dogpile that put Yuriko in cold sleep. but then. well.

final three with two definite humans and Setsu wasn't one of them :') feels bad when you have to use definite enemy on your Situationship

[stop-breaking-my-heart-dragonage]

Okay I thought I was done but apparently I'm not. I need to talk more about this banter you can get during the Legacy DLC between Aveline and Warden Carver because it makes me want to scream.

Aveline: I'm glad you found a place with the Wardens. Carver: Well, it's not the city guard, but it'll do. Aveline: Carver... it wasn't the place for you. Carver: No, it's all right. It is. It cost a lot, but I get it. I really was a bit of a tit those days, wasn't I? Aveline: Well...

In my last post, I talked about how Aveline had no place telling the guard to refuse Carver's application, regardless of if he was "right" for the job or not. But I believe he would've made a great guard, and getting that job not only would've provided for him and his family during a desperate time, but would've prevented him from either fate of becoming a warden or a templar. He was unfairly robbed of a chance to prove himself because Aveline believed he wasn't right for the guard.

This is one of the banters I brought up but didn't go too in depth about. At this point, it's been between 3-6 years since Act 1, depending on if you decided to do Legacy in Act 2 or Act 3, and every line here is important.

Carver's response to Aveline saying she's glad he "found a place" with the wardens is so telling. Not being accepted by the guard is still on his mind after all this time. He wouldn't bring it up if it didn't still bother him, and implies that he still would've preferred the guard over the wardens.

Which... yeah. Listen, I'm a dedicated "Carver joins the Grey Warden" player. I don't like leaving him behind to become a templar, and I certainly don't like him dying. For me, the Grey Wardens are the best outcome he has. It’s where he seems the happiest and finds the most fulfilment, and it fits well with how I play my Hawke. But it obviously has some tragic issues.

Like the fact that becoming a Grey Warden only delayed his inevitable death within the Deep Roads. Eventually his Calling will come, and Carver will go back down there and fight until the darkspawn eventually kill him. I'm sure that's not traumatic to think about given he was a soldier at Ostagar and then watched Bethany die at the hands of an ogre. Oh, and there's the whole nightmares and voices thing.

Carver didn't choose this life for himself. It was either this or death, but a "what if?" still lingers in his mind about the city guard.

Something Aveline ruined for him.

And continues to ruin.

Aveline: Carver... it wasn't the place for you.

You hear that? In the distance? That's me screaming.

I must reiterate; what makes Aveline believe it's her place to tell Carver whether or not the city guard was right for him? Why did she think she should get a say in whether or not the guard takes him? What's made it HER call?

And still, after all this time has passed, she believes it wasn't right for him and she's unwilling to consider otherwise. Maker forbid she do some reflection and question if she was in the right for interfering at all, too!

Carver is standing right there before her, proving everything she said about him wrong, and she just doubles down. There's no reason to say this to him unless she's trying to remind him of his place; he's a Grey Warden, and she's Guard-Captain of Kirkwall's city guard. But c'mon, Aveline, he's hardly a threat to your precious guard anymore given the whole dedication to killing darkspawn thing he has now.

Maybe if you paid more attention to the threats within your guard, Kirkwall would be a safer place with less murder going around? Just saying!

But isn't that how it's always been? Aveline putting him in his place, making sure Carver remembers she's always outranked him?

Carver: Did you approve my application? Aveline: I can't make you a guard, Carver. Carver: We were both soldiers. Why won't they take me? Aveline: I was an officer. And I follow orders. Carver: [laughs] No you don't. Aveline: I also think of others before myself. You seem tired of that, and that's dangerous. Carver: Just when it's not my choice. You told them not to take me, didn't you? Aveline: Yes.

That he should remember who he's talking to?

Carver: I'm surprised you still travel with us, Aveline. Aveline: Carver, don't. Carver: You're ever so busy with the guardsmen. It must be a burden to slum with the refugees. Aveline: It's oddly comforting that you insult me like I'm family. Carver: That wasn't... no, I didn't mean that. Aveline: I know. But you should be glad that's how I took it.

That she's in charge?

Aveline: Your form's sloppy, Carver. Stiffen up or the darkspawn will take your blade. Carver: Right. I'll keep that in mind. Aveline: And you're angry, why? Carver: You didn't fare any better than I did the last time we faced darkspawn. Aveline: If they take your blade, people die. That's not happening again. Stiffen up. Carver: Yes ma'am.

Oh, and she used to spy on him [and Hawke].

Aveline: I don't like some of the people you've been associating with, Carver. Carver: Talk to my brother/sister. He/She's the one in charge. Aveline:  Maybe, but I know you get around. This city's full of people who are dead set on ending badly. I don't want to see you end up the same way. Carver: Would asking you to stop spying on me help in the least? Aveline: No.

That's their banter.

But sure, she's glad he found a place in the wardens. I don't think she's being ingenuine when she says that, but I think it's a little more complicated than a mere "congrats on doing well, I knew you could do it."

But Carver's response? Oh Maker's ass. It actually hurts me.

Carver: No, it's all right. It is. It cost a lot, but I get it. I really was a bit of a tit those days, wasn't I? Aveline: Well...

I... what can I even say?

He accepts it, but you can tell it hurts to do so. It DID cost a lot. More than Aveline will ever understand. And it doesn't matter now! He can't become a guard now anyway, so what would be the point in him disagreeing with her? Carver acts as the bigger person here because he does get it, even if Aveline doesn't.

But it's that last part... that last damn part... Don't be alarmed, that screaming you hear is still me.

Here's the deal; Carver acknowledges that he could be an ass back in Act 1. Hell, he acknowledges it IN Act 1. For example, when you talk to him after finding your grandfather's will, he's an ass to you about Bethany no matter what you say.

But y'know what? You can be the biggest piece of shit to him and have Hawke literally call him a "lazy brat with a chip on his shoulder," and Carver will still be the one to be apologetic for what he said and attempt to explain his feelings.

"Brother/Sister... I feel... I don't know. It's like Mother taking things out on us. She was just scared. I don't have a place in the life she's trying to bring back…"

Carver can be an ass, but he's aware of that and actively tries to change his behavior. If you bring him and Fenris with you on the Mark of the Assassin DLC, there's a moment where Carver says, "You still don't like me? I've tried to change." And if you bring Varric, he once again acknowledges that he used to be an ass.

BUT... that being said. If you don't remember, "I really was a bit of a tit those days, wasn't I?" is referencing back to this conversation in the barracks of Act 1:

Hawke: This must be a very different pace from serving King Cailan. Aveline: It's just one more change, though. The real end for me was Ostagar. What about you Carver? You were there. Do you feel something similar? Carver: No. Aveline: All right, then. Bit of a tit, your brother.

Now, I've already expressed my beef with Aveline over insulting Carver in the middle of the barracks just because he doesn't agree with her view point on Ostagar... but consider the fact that Carver says nothing. He just lets her insult him without a complaint! Carver Hawke, who tends to complain! And he says nothing!

Not only that, but he actually internalized that insult enough that years later he's able to repeat it back to Aveline word for word, and all she has to say is, "Well..."

This isn't the same thing as him reflecting on his past behavior and acknowledging his flaws. This is Carver accepting a snide jab Aveline made that hurt him because apparently he was wrong for not wanting to discuss any trauma Ostagar left him with as openly as she does.

Oh, and don't forget that any other companion you brought along dogpiles on, too!

Carver: No, it's all right. It is. It cost a lot, but I get it. I really was a bit of a tit those days, wasn't I? Aveline: Well... Varric: No shit. Fenris: Insufferable. Isabela: Legendary. Anders: Maker, yes. Sebastian: I've heard as much. [If Hawke has a humorous/charming personality] Hawke: Spoiled, annoying, thick-headed, brattish little nitwit of a... oh, have we stopped?

Y'all ever wonder why he's so on edge or hostile with the other companions?

Also, I have to point out that Merrill is the only companion who doesn't say anything in agreement if she's there. In fact, across all their banter, Merrill's never been rude or insulting toward him. All she does is ask him if he's talking dirty to her and compliments him on what a great sworder he is. It's pretty obvious why Carver develops a crush on her, c'mon.

But to wrap this up-

This banter strikes a nerve due to how telling it is about both characters involved.

Carver has grown and done what he can to improve himself, but there's regret that lingers, a longing for a better life he could've had if given a chance. Maybe he would've failed, maybe he would've succeeded. But there's nothing he can do now, so he looks forward, just as he's always wanted to do. He's a damn good Grey Warden who wants to do right.

Aveline remains stagnant. She hasn't changed, nor has she improved, and maybe she would if she could figure out how to dislodge her head from her own ass. She still believes she was in the right to tell the guard not to accept Carver's application despite knowing the Hawke's were desperate and that Fereldan refugees couldn't find work. She knew Carver's a skilled soldier who fought at Ostagar just as she did. The guard wasn't the place for him so she's in the right to deny him any chance. Aveline knows best.

And y'know what, I think all I have left to say is...

Fine, Aveline. You're right. It wasn't the place for him.

Carver was too good for your city guard.

[goldentigerfestival]

I love the vocal nuance in this exchange, but also posting this for my differences posts because this is one of the changes that infuriates me the most. Yuri didn't threaten Ioder, did not threaten him with a weapon, and just said he'd punch him in a lazy, half joking voice (half joking as in, he really doesn't want to hear that - that's just his way of saying so; but that's not the voice of someone who is super angry and threatening).

My other huge grievance is that this is a recurring issue between them in the dub. Yuri is pretty much always vocally rude to Ioder. Ioder has done nothing to wrong him or anyone and has only ever done good for the people where he's able to.

Yet despite Ioder being nothing but sincere, honest and polite with Yuri, in fact even happy to see him here and there, dub Yuri is outright tonally rude to him leading right up this scene where he threatens Ioder in this dark voice. Meanwhile he's actually just supposed to be… lazily telling Ioder he'll punch him in his Yuri Lowell way of saying "I don't want to hear that".

The dub really just wanted to turn Yuri into this dark edgelord and I hate that for my goofy, silly boy.

[front-facing-pokemon]

[mermaidsirennikita]

"he reaches out to protect the heroine..."

:)

"... and the two small children in her care"

:(