#I wish I had dicipline

[myfictionaldreams]

Hear me out! How about Mafia Steve rogers having hate sex with reader because they were having an argument and reader had attitude. He fucks her like i need to dicipline you, you little brat and she is calling him daddy.

I'm Bored! // Mafia!Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader

A/N: Thank you for the request! ♥ I hope you like this!

Side Note: This isn't a part of the mafia!stucky universe, just wanted to clarify that lol

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, dom/sub, rough sex, spanking, ripping clothes, degradation, praise kink, size kink (!), desk sex, creampie, edging, overstimulation, daddy kink, pretty behaviour, slight misogyny/stereotypes, hairpulling, fingering, exhibitionism, slight subspace

Words: 2.6k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

“I know what you’re doing”. Steve slammed his phone onto the desk as his nostrils flared, eyes glaring with an intensity that any sane person would have backed away with their head lowered in submission.

It seemed you had a death wish today as you smirked and continued to piss him off, wanting the exact reaction you were receiving from your Mafia boyfriend. Stomping your foot and clenching your fists, you continued in a shrill, high-pitched tone for an added effect that you knew would drive him into the depths of mental hell. ”I’m not doing anything! I just feel so trapped in this stupid box of an office!”

As you so politely described, this stupid box of an office was an executive suite in one of the skyscrapers that towered over Brooklyn that he could view from the ceiling-to-floor windows. The office had to be the biggest in the building, with enough space for his desk, sitting area, kitchen and a vastly sized table to fit at least 15 people for meetings specified for the mafia boss.

And yet, here you were, moaning about the size, knowing that there was nothing more extravagant or luxurious than his office. In your defence, it had been a long day of being out of the office, as Steve had to travel for hours across his city to check the quality of stolen goods and meet with many influential people with the hopes of selling said stolen items. It hadn’t been a particularly trying day for the most part, but you quickly became bored, especially as you had to remain quiet during these meetings.

From an outsider's perspective, you were meant to be the pretty timid girlfriend of the mafia boss. His eye candy. There to hang on his arm and warm his lap and nothing more. In reality, he had wanted you there so that you could be more involved in the gang, understand how the meetings work, and contribute to decisions once back to the office if you deemed the people trustworthy enough to work with.

The staying quiet aspect of your role was also just for your safety. If you talked, that was an open invitation for the powerful individuals to talk back, and you weren’t ready to be involved in those sorts of conversations just yet. Therefore, you were more than happy to remain Steve's silent, pretty girlfriend.

Today, however, you were feeling antsy from the lack of talking, stiff from sitting for so long and needy for something a little more exciting than hand-holding or sitting on his lap. Especially now you were in the comfort of the office and could really rile Steve up. Maybe you were being a brat, but you were so bored and frustrated you wanted to get your heart pounding and some sort of relief, so pissing Steve off was the best option for this.

“Stop trying to take your clothes off-! Fucks sake. Everyone out!” Steve ordered the guards stationed by the door, and they promptly followed his directions as they left with a slam of the door.

You pause, with one of the straps of your dress halfway down your arm, turning to face him directly with a wicked smile on your face. Oh, he was pissed, verging on genuinely being angry with the way the vein on his neck was bulging and throbbing.

“I hate when you get like this. We were having a nice fucking day, too”, he demands whilst beginning to remove his tie and jacket. You knew he didn’t mean it; he always loved being able to dominate you just as much as you loved being an irritating brat and getting on his last nerve.

Your cunt pulses in desire watching him closely, eyes blazing with excitement as you bite your lower lip to try and hide the unmistakable grin. “Was it a nice day for me or for you, Steve? Because it’s been a boring day for me. All I’ve been doing for hours is standing there and looking pretty. Do you know how boring that is? I want to live a little! My clothes feel too tight, too claustrophobic. I want to be free!”

Steve doesn’t say anything, but he does glare as he begins to undo the cuffs of his white shirt, rolling up the sleeves to reveal the muscular forearms beneath. It was only as he rounded his desk that you began to back up, taking a quick step backwards, but they were no match to the giant strides of his long legs as he was in front of you in a matter of seconds. His chest bumped into yours, forcing you to continue backwards until your back was flush against the cool glass windows.

Steve towered above you, even with your black heels adding a few inches to your height; he always seemed to be a gargantuan man, adding warmth to your core. Looking up at his glaring face through your lashes and biting your lip, trying to look as innocent as possible.

“Think you’re being cute by acting like this? Like a brat with all that attitude?” he snaps, reaching up to wrap his massive hand around your throat, not squeezing as such but just so that you stayed still and he could feel the thump of your racing heartbeat beneath his fingertips.

“I think I’ve got the response that I wanted, so yes, I think I am being cute”, you say confidently whilst reaching for the bulge in his slacks to show just how turned on he was, squeezing it tightly and making it throb.

Steve’s eyes drop to your hand as he subtly thrusts into your palm, but as he looks back towards your face, you know he has something planned as it is his turn to smirk. “You said your clothes felt tight. Well, let’s change that Princess”.

The hand around your neck lowers to your hip, turning you around so your front is pressed against the window, forced to look out over the city of Brooklyn. Before you could even look over your shoulder to see what was next, your body was shaken as Steve gripped the left and right side of your dress and pulled, effortlessly ripping the red dress down the zip so it fell from your body. You were left in only your thong and heels, wholly exposed to the city below.

Steve’s hand is then suddenly in your hair, pulling your head back against his shoulder and forcing your chest to push up, your nipples perking from being pressed against the startingly cold glass.

“Does this make you feel any more free? You know I love it when people watch me touch you. Well, now we’ve got the whole city watching Princess”, Steve whispers as he runs his nose down your neck.

You shiver as he nudges the sensitive spot just below your ear, “Yes, Steve-”.

The hand in your hair tightens, “Excuse me?”

“Daddy”, you correct yourself quickly, “Yes, Daddy, thank you for making me feel more free and showing me off to everyone”.

He hums to himself, “I think it’s about time I should how to be more grateful and show a little less of this attitude you seem to have”.

“Yes, Daddy”, you say submissively, mind reeling with the anticipation and thrill of what's to come.

“Count for me and safe words to be used if needed”, he mentioned before continuing.

With one hair remaining in your hair, he presses your face against the window, not hard enough for it to hurt but also to make sure that you keep it in place. His other hand pulled back on your hips, perking your arse out for him. You were only vaguely aware of his plan as you heard the swatting of his hand through the air before the stinging impact as he spanked your arse cheek.

You jumped at the contact, but he always started light, not wishing to actually cause you harm and so that you could make it through the usual ten counts before checking in.

“One, thank you, Daddy”, you say sweetly, watching the glass in front of you fog up at your heated breath. With each spank, you made sure to count and thank him. Even though you’d been a brat, when he finally did snap like he was now, you were always on your best behaviour, taking whatever punishment he deemed necessary.

His palm connected with both of your cheeks, ensuring they both had equal attention and that the areas were hot to the touch and somewhat sore but not enough to bruise. You enjoyed the rough treatment so much that you were rolling your hips into his palm, feeling the wetness coating your thong and spreading over your labia.

“Ten, thank you, Daddy”, you softly say, your eyes closed and feeling the world becoming fuzzy around the edges as the mixture of pleasure and pain caused the hormones in your head to feel like you were experiencing your own personal high.

This was the reason why you always enjoyed pissing him off with a little bit of attitude and bratty behaviour; being drawn into a subspace mentally from the punishments was like a drug to you, one that Steve was more than happy to pull you into.

Overwhelming pleasure suddenly burst through your burning core as Steve pulled your thong string to the side and shoved two thick digits into your pussy, stretching you thoroughly.

“You’re so wet, such a desperate little slut aren’t you” he taunts whilst rocking his fingers in and out, stretching them every so often to prepare you for what you really want.

You stick out your bottom lip in a pout whilst rolling your hips in time with his fingers as you whine, “Only your slut though, Daddy”.

Steve kisses your naked shoulder, showing some sort of soft intimacy, “That’s right, you’re just my little slut. Now how about you show me just how good you are for me and go and bend over my desk and spread your legs”.

The hand in your hair loosens enough that you can wiggle free and stumble over to the desk, kicking off the heels as if they were not helping the wobbly sensations in your legs. Steve was one step behind and reached around you to shove the papers cluttering his desk off and onto the floor. With the extra space, you could happily bend forward, resting your chest on the desk and widening your stance as Steve begins to unbuckle his belt.

Watching over your shoulder, you admired the lustful gaze of his bright ocean-blue eyes, the drag of his tongue along his bottom lip as he looked as if he wanted to eat you right then and there.

“Do you like what you see?” you asked whilst wiggling your hips invitingly to him.

Steve tries and fails to hide the smirk on his face. Reaching forward, he rubs with each of your arse cheeks, squeezing the sore areas until your mewling and begging for something more. As he stepped closer and continued to hold the string of your thong to the side, he looked you directly in the eyes as he spoke lowly, “I just want you to remember that you wanted me to get this riled up with that smart mouth of yours. Acting bratty has its consequences”.

Opening your mouth to try and sass him another way, all that came out was an exaggeratedly obscene moan, your eyes rolling back as Steve’s cock thrust deep within your cunt in one mighty thrust. The movement caused you to rock onto your tiptoes, having to push further onto the desk as the tip of his cock pressed against your cervix, filling you completely. The warm, wet walls of your pussy fluttered and squeezed around the penetration, trying to milk him already, clinging to him within an inch of your life.

Your fingers wrap around the edge of the desk above your head, holding on to it as Steve withdraws. Half of the length inside of you retreated, only to slam back into you, causing your hips to bump into the table with the strength put behind the movement.

“Faster”, you demand as your forehead rests on the rest, eyes closing to focus on the overwhelming pressure in your core.

However, the sassy tone you used was not appreciated by the man nearly splitting you in half with his cock as his hand once again delved into your hair to pull your head back, causing a startled scream to replace the moans.

“You don’t get to decide how fast I fuck you, Princess”.

With your head pulled back in this position, you were now having to stare at the wall behind his desk, which had a narcissistic painting of him, given to him as a joke by one of his employees. Now, however, to your delight, you were able to stare up at his handsome face as he fucked you with deep, tauntingly slow thrusts.

With this pace, you could feel every single inch dragging along your sensitive walls, causing them to spasm and tighten on instincts rather than just taking a quick hard fuck that left you forgetting to breathe and seeing stares. The way Steve currently had you was more overstimulating and had your breaths coming out in short huffs.

Steve, it seemed, knew every little moan and hitch of breath that your body took, understood at which degree of tightness your cunt squeezed him in with just how close you were to orgasm. His hips stopped thrusting as you could have sobbed as that beautiful sensation faded into a light buzz rather than an overwhelming euphoria.

“Please- Please Daddy, I…I… I’m sorry for my attitude, Daddy” You managed to find the right words, internally praising yourself for coherently saying what Steve wanted to say as currently, the only words running through your mind were, ‘fuck me harder, Daddy’.

“That’s all I wanted you to say, Princess”, he praises lightly as one hand remains holding onto your hair and the other slips between the desk and your mound so that two of his fingers can massage your clit.

The burst of fire that pulsed through you was powerful, knees wobbling and whines turning into incoherent begs of the word ‘yes!” as Steve finally began to fuck you at the fast pace you’d been hoping for.

You came so quickly that the breath rushed from your body, and you became light-headed from the overstimulation. He doesn’t stop, though; he just continues to hold you in place, fucking you and playing with your clit until you came a second time.

Thankfully, Steve did too, grunting desperately as his hips snapped up one more time, and wetness came flooding out of your cunt as his seed seeped out and down your thighs. Carefully, he removed his fingers from your sensitive bundle of nerves and gently rested your face on the desk whilst massaging your scalp and kissing along the back of your shoulder blade.

As he moved up towards your neck, you sighed in contentment, turning your face to the side so that he could gently kiss your cheek and you could reach around to run your fingers through his short, blond hair.

“Get your frustrations out?” he asks quietly and softly into your ear.

Nodding your head, you blink tiredly back at him, “Yes, thank you. But now, I have no clothes, and I can’t walk”.

Steve chuckles against your skin, a beautiful sound that has your toes curling again, “Well, I did warn you”.

[dapper-lil-arts]

I wish the show had shown Celestia being so powerful that she was really hesitant to go anywhere near all out. Like during Twilights fight with Starlight, have one of the time periods they go do be a blasted waste with just a glowing Celestia sitting in the middle of a crater and just leave it at that.

I'm not sure thats the best direction to take Celestia's character, because she's had a thousand years to hone her dicipline and her capacity to master her power, I think that although having that tremendous power, she chooses diplomacy and conversation through every adversity would show more that although she has the capacity to kick ass, she leaves it at a last resort. One example of this is the fact that she's fought Chrysalis for a thousand years, and knows that there's no just talking it out with her, so she starts by slapping her around. Tragically that's not how the show goes.

The general gist Of Celestia being the ultimate roadblock of Equestrian domination so antagonists actively target Twilight because she's the weak link and the next in line, so they need to nip it in the bud would be pretty damn interesting too. Celestia can be the saviour if need be, but it could also be about Twilight proving herself

[wonderboothyt]

I don't draw often and i struggle to motivate myself to do so. I am incredibly impressed by artist all over the world who are so talented and outstanding in making art. All those hours it must have taken to get to the level you are at.

Knowing that AI is getting more and more of a problem to you makes me sad, since art is something i respect immensly... So know I am on your side, fuck AI art. There is no talent behind AI art!

Anyway, the reason I wanted to say this compliment to amazing artist out there (I am also including my sibling in this cause god they are wonderfully talented at it), is because I drew Rouge the Bat not long ago.

I feel proud of it, I just wish I had more passion and dicipline to keep going at it.

That's my post today, LOVE YOU ALL AMAZING ARTISTS OUT THERE AND FUCK AI

[alarrytale]

There are shows where he doesn’t remember the order of songs or his own self-penned lyrics. He'd need to take his floor-taped lyric sheets or set list with him if he was going to start moving around more. If he had confidence he'd try out a guitar or a piano too as a fan surprise. His suprises seems to consist of changing up the set list and removing fan favourite songs, and singing cover songs. If you expect the stadium experience from Louis you'll get disappointed. His performance is the same whether he's playing in a pub, a club, an arena or a stadium. ///

I mean Louis' boyfriend is one of the greatest live performers of his generation, couldn't he teach Louis a few tricks? The lyrics thing is an issue I agree.

Hi, anon!

You can’t teach how to have self-confidence or how to be comfortable in your own skin. You can’t teach charisma, self-dicipline or self-motivation. You can’t say, don't be nervous, don't be anxious and then the nerves and anxiety goes away. You can’t say just be yourself, when you've been told half your life that being yourself isn't good enough or what you're doing is bad. You can’t be yourself when you don’t know fully who that is. You can’t say don't be awkward, be natural, when your natural mannerisms goes against your current image. So it's not that easy. This is a man who needs liquid courage to go on stage. Even though he's done it a hundred times by now. He's that insecure in himself and his own abilities. Even though he gets a great audience reaction every time. He just can’t seem to get comfortable enough to try new things and change things up.

I wish he had the courage to finally cover No Control. The audience would go ballistic and he'd get such a confidence boost out of it. But he's afraid to try, afraid to go outside of his comfort zone and afraid to fail. I don't think he'll ever get to a point where he's fully confident until he's out. I think that burden on his shoulders is what's holding him back.

[thinkpink212]

♡ Taking myself there - Week 7 ♡

Summery: A heavy week but one where much was reflected on, thoughts were had as well as important conversations. My uncle (family friend) passed a few weeks ago, and ill find myself just stopping up to shed a few teas - Grieving his passing but mostly grieving for those who are left with his absence... His wife, children, family. Sigh. I always found it very conflicting how death makes people suddenly change up, because it shouldn't take someone passing for us to want better for ourselves. To apologize, to love those around us and be greatful. But I see why so many feel called to it. What I wanted for myself was already a strong desire I knew i'd achieve, but now I am even more determined - not just to get there, but to cut out whatever truly is no longer serving me. Time to move, and eliminate what I have outgrown! As we all should!

This week I was grateful for…

♡ The way I was raised - I don't think I ever truly realized how well mannered, considerate, helpful and diciplined my mom raised me. I do a lot from the heart but I found myself doing things from a "if my mom was here she'd nodge me to do x y z" and yeah its a bit of an older mentality, but its one that is appriciated and greatly valued in many of the spaces I find myself in - and one I value in others!

♡ Kind strangers, so keep em coming @ universe! Makes my day each time.

Highlights - The best parts of this week were…

♡ The small parts of this week that made me push through; From interactions with friends, laughing and smiling like life isnt trying to WWE-me.

♡ Talking to my mom for 90% of my shift. I learned so much, cried, laughed, gasped. I’m feel like I’ve learned more about her and myself! Very grateful for moments like this!

♡ Talking to a new mutual and making new potential friends irl!

♡ Witnessing a lot of beautiful black woman, my fav activity is Queen watching (corny but TRUE)

Whats next?

♡ My dissatifcation with my job has me wanting to switch a lot up; Wish I could talk more about it, but I have a feeling everything just needs to be held as close as possible till its done. So what I will say is imma do them as they did me, but better. At the end, everybody wins because we all get to simply move on. Itll take a lot of energy out of me to just take everyday as they come because when you've outgrown somewhere and no longer desire to stay, it's hard (at least for me) to stay put. But I am an adult, can't be hopping left and right, I have a stable future I promised myself i'd secure.

[ofmermaidstories]

Do you think you'd ever do that kirishima x reader fic you mentioned a while back? Maybe not as a big as the other sjlt verse fics because I thiiiiink you said you wanted it to be a trilogy �� but maybe as like a smaller side story maybe? It just sounded so interesting! I immediately loved the idea of a plus sized costume designer reader and I would absolutely love to read a Kiri story from you ❤️

the kiri fic! last year i would’ve said (and was saying) “yeah sure let’s add it to the list”, but i’ve had to reckon with the fact that i’m just not a fast writer. :/ i have more ideas than i can keep up with—a more diciplined writer could work through them with more ease, maybe, but it’s not a writer i am. 🥺 i’m trying to accept that i can’t give as much as i want to—i wish i could. there’s a lot i want to write for BNHA. 🥺

i’ve made this so serious and gloomy, lmao—rolling the drama and the insecurities back a bit, i have been like, laying down the ground work for our plus-sized Tokyo Ballet costume designer to exist in the IAL world. i don’t know if she’ll ever make a proper appearance in it, considering i first had that idea before having another one for IAL’s Kiri, but maybe once we’re on the other side of Deku’s fic and have Shouto’s lined up, i can think about doing a one-shot or something, in an unrelated universe—where Kirishima meets our girl, and gets his own ever after. 🩰✂️✨

[casper-spills]

hello, idk if this sent before i think i did it as anon before but may i please have a love reading? there is already someone i have in mind and i would just like to get to know a bit more about the situation. happy spooky season and thank you!! :)

Hello!

Thank you for the reblog and the request! ♡

Cards: Wheel of Fortune, Three of Swords, Judgment (reversed), The Hanged Man (reversed), The Hermit (reversed), Nine of Swords, The Devil (reversed), Seven of Coins, Ten of Cups

Messages: 'How can you be supportive?' 'Your dreams need a practical plan' 'Invest in this connection' 'A time to give rather than take' 'There will be sustainable results' 'Let them heal' 'Who lights you up?'

Details about your future spouse:

Appearance: Mouth is the most noticable, very facially expressive, you can always tell how they're feeling, bright eyes, delicate features, friendly smile, tall and slender, graceful arms & legs, animated story teller, use their hands when they talk, shake their legs when theyre nervous. Traits: Commited, responsible, strict, good boundaries, structured, diciplined, ambitious, controlled, traditional, wise, a good teacher, patient, stable, reliable, persevering, diligent, focused, stern, stingy, selfish, hardworker.

The situation with your person in mind:

This person might have just got out of a karmic connection. They are going through a time of grief and healing. This could be a breakup or a toxic friendship they had that they cut ties with. They have a lot of negative feelings towards themselves and are very self critical. It's not that they haven't considered you as a romantic partner, they're just not thinking about getting into a relationship right now. They don't feel emotionally or mentally ready for a new commitment. They are currently stagnent in their love life because they're still dealing with the effects from their last connection. Things like lonliness, withdrawal, isolation, anxiety, depression and perhaps even nightmares.

I hope you found this reading helpful to you and I wish you all the luck and adundance in your love life!

Sincerely,

Cassy the friendly ghost ♡

[cleekleequlee]

Reflecting on development - a personal note

Memories come back to me from time to time for different reasons. When discussing the elusive topics of the more-than-human and posthumanism, at the same time I think of my distant childhood days, when at the age of twelve I lived in my middle school for about a year. It was not a proper boarding school, just an old classroom with 14 bunk bed / 28 roommates in it. All my belonging was in one big wooden box (like one of those boxes in old days woman get married with filled with marriage deposit by her parents. I wonder where that box is now?). There was no toilet in the building, meaning in the winter days of -5C you have to walk outside of the building to wee. Nor is there water supply. We each had a bucket which we fill with water and carry upstairs each day for brushing teeth and washing face. Of course no hot bath.

It sounds not only old, but like last century (indeed it is last century). But that was the humble upbringing of mine. My parents were distant from the start, maybe because I'm diciplined and too scared / anxious already.

Amid the frustration of finding I'm still not as confident, as outspoken, as articulative as I wish, as what you see young people from top universities naturally do today, I have to remind myself again and again the path I have walked to simply get here.

But what is this experience of any value other than self-content and even indulgence?

This summer I had the chance traveling to Australia and States. Somehow the kitchen and toilet got my attention. The western kitchen demonstrated a standard (or at least expected by airbnb users) - full sets of dishes (one big and one small) and cereal bowls, glasses, mugs, wine glasses. Behind these are their long maintained lifestyles. The form of the kitchen is compatible to (and co-evolved with) the sets of utensils over the period of 1-2 centuries. Even deeper beneath the organization (and diligence put in by housewives) is the aesthetics of order and cleaness. Walking into this kitchen from a chaotic, hot and splashing (dangerous!) Chinese kitchen, one can easily come back feeling ashamed and not "modern". (Let alone the fact that Chinese kitchen has exploded with kitchen appliances catering every particular needs in life thanks to consumerism and its big population base.) I myself has been one of them, coming back and trying to imitate one trick or two for a long time.

But this time I start to ask two things: what is the logic of a Chinese kitchen if it is not purely order and cleaness? And what are the the conflicting forces behind the kitchen that makes it "feeling messy and outdated"?

Memory comes again... not in a linear thread of thinking, but I thought of in my Western China hometown, noodle and potato was the stationary food. The only vegetable supply at the time was Chinese cabbage, and mom works diligently to make tomato sauce of our own each year - not for the sake of special flavour, but for keeping some tomato for the winter that goes to almost every dish. Local food is the manifestation of local produce and local economy. We had so much carb and so little meat and vege, and fish was a once in a year event. That's why hot oil splashed chili is a stationary on the dining table and can be added in every dish. We simply needed some flavours to go with all the carb.

And I remember how, in my teenage years, I bought a Dove chocolate bar, probably a 50 gram one, with 5 RMB (less than a US$). I ate it slowly, wrap it up carefully after each bite, and finished it over a week time.

Rather than thinking of this limited variety of food as a "lack", I'd say I didn't feel that way at all at that time. Lack is only when comparing to another and believing the other is better, being it a spatial comparison (seeing other people in other places) or temporal one (looking back from today). And really a spatial comparison when done in a particular and embodied way doesn't really lead to a feeling of lack. I remember when I was in primary our family visited my uncle's family in Shanghai. Their food was terrible in my then opinion. My taste is coupled with the food I grow up with.

So what does all this lead us to? Development (in postcolonial sense), or the project of modernization, is the backdrop of my upbringing. In a timespan of only 30 years I (and many people around me) in China marched from our humble food and kitchen, weekly hot shower, and 28-people dormitary to a modern life. We opened our kitchen, tore the wall, expanded it to host all the things that were shiny and new that we brought from our trips, that we invented in the same learnt spirit (or we think - I think of the Piet Mondrian style glasses that were in every Chinese family in early 90's, even no one knows his name at all. I think of the italian country style crochet sofa panel that never existed with a Italian grandma).

Is there a thing of our own? Did it exist? Can it be retrieved? Or maybe, among the rich and messy details of reality, among the memories like how I learnt to make noodle from scratch when I was 8 or so, such a "tradition" only exists when articulated and abstracted?

If the whole development project was a messy example of "learning another culture, or way of living", it seems to be an explosive one that bombed the original texture of life into pieces. Were we to do it differently, not in a way that the "advanced" trying to teach the "primitive" and the "primitive" trying to absorb and catch up, but as two strangers getting closer and conversing, both trying to understanding why are the difference there in the first place, to not only take the form of Monderian or crochet, but the logic of order and cleaness and the appreciation of Sicilian sun and time, could the process and result be different?

And what does that teach us to become "posthuman"?

[succulentdegenerate]

Mad

she saw the world with rose tinted glasses the red flags on the horizon only looked slighty more vibrant while she felt the thorns dig into her temples poison pumping into her hatred in her veins now the rose tinted glasses only seemed more red

tongue numbed with nasty words but never leaves her head why is it when she looks at people she only wants them dead the world is sadistic warm and animalistic only animals have the dicipline to follow their instinct

evil isn't born only formed and made but why is it when we rub our thumbs we do it for our selfish gain money and pride death and life words that mean nothing in our sick and twisted game

I used to want to hurt now I want to hurt all those people that turned my world into a blody ruined mess I see the evil in people I see beyond the flesh The frenzic power of biting into flesh

people are disgusting people are rotten there seems to be a truth I've unwillingly forgotten

violence comes from hate the gluttonous need for power So maybe instead of turning bitter I should take a boiling shower

you hear them talking in your mind leaves you falling behind so before you're far to gone yell in their ear "LEAVE ME ALONE!" I don't deserve bullies like you telling me what to do so LEAVE ME ALONE

I will kick and scream leave you whimpering hear you begging me "LEAVE ME ALONE!"

"That's what you get for being a social shark," that's what you get for leaving me in the dark didn't like me from the start, but decieved me anyway because self-reflection brings you pain I don't subscribe to your ways

You don't know the amount of times I cried every night not being near my friends but where was the invite had to invite myself had to ask for help where you ever at all my friends?

Yes, I'm angry, still and I will die on this hill You trampled on my respect I will trample on yours You weren't even happy, so what was I good for?

sometimes I wish you were dead Not taking back what you said even though I never heard those words at all People like you makes my skin crawl

The bare minimum: that you respect instead of being invested you just infected me with your self-loathing, heavy, boiling poison CONGRATS: I'M ON YOUR FUCKING LEVEL NOW MEDAL TO YOU INFACT A FUCKING MEDAL TO EVRYONE YOUR PHENOMENAL ACTING SKILLS DESERVES A FUCKING REWARD

I'm really angry now more than ever before

[burnsopale]

So back in August I ensconced myself in a cabin on a mountain to do some writing, and I decided to do a take on the classic “Volkov returns from prison”-scenario.

I got five chapters and 35 000 words in and I will never ever finish it because I have no dicipline. So I figured I could at least share some of the readable bits with you.

Working title: Ashen Characters in this clip: BBA, Russian boys, PPB, mention of the Euro-team Setting: 7 years after season one, Russia, a beyblade park in the evening Summary: Volkov has escaped from prison, attacked PPB headquarters and taken back Black Dranzer. The Russian boys have been living with the PPB, and were used and hurt in the attack. Yuriy left with Volkov for unknown reasons. Daitenji Kogoro has gathered the troops and sent them to Russia to find out what Volkov is up to. Meanwhile, Kai’s grandfather is on his deathbed, and Kai is struggling to deal with it.

The crowd swelled, until there was no way that Takao was going to get any kind of private conversation with his friends. He gave up on the notion for the present, and threw himself into matches. He played the kids who wanted to, holding back as much as he could and leaving Seiryuu simmering in the blade, but eventually they called for a match between Takao and Kai.

Takao loved blading against Kai; somehow, he could never do less than his best against Dranzer, but when Kai now took his place on the other side of the small, grounded dish, something felt off to Takao. Kai looked dull, like he was going to the dentist and just had to get it over with. He fitted Dranzer into the shooter with a look like he was miles away.

“Hey,” Takao said, having to raise his voice a little to get past the crowd. “Are you there?”

 Kai looked up, a little surprised. “What sort of trash talk is that? Are you there?”

 “Just checking. I’ll be in your care.”

 “You’ll be under my heel,” Kai said darkly, and now Takao knew something was wrong, but a beybattle had always been Takao’s way to get through to people, so he just bent his knees and raised Dragoon in front of him.

 “Tri, dva, odin! Idi strelyay!”

 Out of the corner of his eye, Takao saw Emily startle, but he’d have to wonder about that some other time because Seiryuu would not be contained any longer and came out roaring.

Dranzer took Dragoon’s attack head on. Seiryuu bent over it like he was confused as to why Suzaku wasn’t joining him. For the longest moment, Kai just stood there, while Takao watched in disbelief.

 Then, as if he was lifting a great weight, Kai breathed in and cried, “Suzaku!”

 Even the vermillion bird herself didn’t so much soar out of the bit chip as climb laboriously out. Seiryuu hissed, offended by this poor showing, and the battle was over in less than a minute.

 Kai picked up Dranzer and went to stand next to Boris and Kyouju without even commenting on the results. The audience was, thankfully, satisfied, but Takao was not.

 He played Eddie and got a much better match out of him; Trypio was one of those tricky blades that you needed strategy and forward thinking to beat.

 Afterwards he got a chance to say two words to Emily about Kai.

 “He is going through a tough time,” she said.

 “Yeah, but he doesn’t usually let it hurt his blading.”

 “He can’t still be grumpy about the finals?” she wondered.

 Takao shook his head. “Nah, he agreed Ralf deserved that one.”

 Emily nodded, biting her lip in pleasure as she thought back. “Ralf was incredible. It was a team win, but he had the best individual result. The data output was like a laden buffet table.”

 “Ooh, buffet! ... Did he lose at all?” Takao didn’t think he had, but he hadn’t been able to catch every battle.

 “Hmm. Rai came close; lightning is good against such massive holy beasts, and it was close for Kai too of course, but no one can quite top the sheer mastery Ralf has over Griffolyon.”

 “It’s not mastery; it’s teamwork,” Takao insisted, frowning.

 “Call it synergy, then,” she said, shrugging. “Ralf knows his business, that’s all I’m saying. They all do, those European bladers.” She chuckled. “You know, Ivan calls them Earthquaker, Wingshaker and Heartbreaker, from back before he learned their names.”

 Takao matched the nicknames to their right bladers in his head. “... What does he call Johnny?”

 “The hedgehog.”

 “What about you?” he asked, nodding to the dish where Max was getting ready to battle Steve. “Are you going to play?”

 She shook her head, a look of pain crossing her sharp features. “Trygator is ... missing. He was taken in the attack. Volkov has it.”

 For a moment, Takao found nothing to say. Inside he was boiling. “We’ll get him back, Emily,” he vowed, clenching his fist. “I swear it.”

 She smiled a dangerous smile, not unlike a crocodile’s. “Yes, we will.”

 Eventually the group detangled themselves from the crowd and began to journey home. The world was growing dark, but the sky was still pale above. Long stretched of road lay without light, which came in handy when they had to escape from a few fans who apparently wanted to know where they were staying.

 They stopped on the lawn outside the hotel where Emily and company were staying, and Takao finally got to ask his question.

 “What happened?”

 The others looked at each other, except Boris who looked down, and Kai, who now said a brief goodnight, reminded them where to meet in the morning, and walked away. Max made a soft sound, but didn’t try to stop him. Kyouju seemed torn between not wanting to pry and dying to know.

 Emily made it easier by briefly telling them of her encounter with Peter Trotty. “Turns out his real name is Trotsky. He’s one of three Borg spies that have been undercover in the PPB for years. Or rather, one of the three we’ve found so far.”

 “What did he mean by that thing he said? Baba who?”

 The Russian boys shifted their feet. Sergei’s lips pulled back from his teeth in a silent snarl.

 Kyouju could, as usual, not help doing a bit of teaching. “Baba Yaga is the name of a witch in Russian fairy tales. She is an old woman who rides through the woods on a mortar, and lives in a house that stands on four chicken legs.”

 “Chicken legs?” Max echoed doubtfully.

 “She is sometimes an enemy, but can also help the hero or heroine, if they do the tasks she sets them.”

 “In this case,” Sergei said, “she is a real woman. She was in the abbey. She trained us, Ivan and me, and sometimes Yuriy.”

 “Don’t ask about her,” Ivan said, putting his hands over his ears. “I hear the creaking in my head all the time. I thought I was rid of it. I thought it was over!”

 “She is dead,” Sergei said with conviction. It sounded like something he needed to believe. “She was old when I came to the abbey; she must be dead. But they had her voice on a tape recorder and ... it’s hard to disobey.”

 “Fuck her!” Ivan exclaimed, and then grew suddenly pale as if he had said something dangerous. “No more,” he said, more lowly. “She’s a fairy tale now. Only fit for scaring children.”

 For a while they stood in silence, and then Kyouju asked the other question, the one that had been hanging over them all day. “Why did Yuriy go?”

 “Because he’s an idiot!” Boris said, holding up clawed hands like he would like to wrap them around Yuriy’s throat. He turned away and roared behind his teeth up at the darkening sky. “He’s a stupid mudak! Fuck!” He kicked a turf of grass so dirt sprayed up. “Fuck, fuck fuck!”

 They watched him stomp repeatedly on the uprooted bit of turf, and then move on to a flower that was unlucky enough to stand nearby.

 “What Borya said,” Sergei agreed.

 “But we’re to blame too,” Eddie added, pulling his jeans jacket around himself like he was cold. “We thought we were doing a good job making them feel at home.”

 “We thought Michael was taking care of Yuriy,” Steve said, stern with himself. “But Michael and Yuriy are nothing alike. It didn’t work out.”

 “And we didn’t notice,” Eddie finished.

 “Don’t talk like that,” Ivan hissed. “Like we were your homework!”

 “But you were,” Emily said in her factual, merciless way. “At first. Then you became our friends. Now you are ours, whether you like it or not. You won’t rest until Yuriy is liberated, but neither will we. He’s coming back home with us.”

 “We’re with you too,” Max said quickly.

 Takao and Kyouju nodded determinedly.

 “The first step is to figure out where Volkov is and what he is planning,” Kyouju said.

 “And that means getting to bed, so we are ready for tomorrow,” Emily added. “Come on, boys. I promised Judy I’d tuck you all in by ... well not this hour, but she doesn’t need to know that.”

 Takao, Max and Kyouju watched them go, Sergei grabbing Boris by the lapel and pulling him away from the flowers he was chewing up. Then they turned and headed for their own hotel and their beds.

 “What do you think we’ll find tomorrow?” Max wondered.

 “We’re going back to the abbey,” Takao answered. “We could find anything.” A feeling of foreboding was growing in his stomach.

 Takao surprised everyone by being the first to get up that morning. He was too keyed up to sleep any longer. He was digging into his second round of breakfast when the others arrived, but politely stuck around to keep them company until they too were finished. It gave him time for round three anyway.

 “You’d think I don’t feed you,” Dad said as he brought his plate to the table.

 “You’d think Grandpa doesn’t feed you,” Takao retorted, looking at the mountain of food on his dad’s plate.

 Kyouju sipped his tea, two slices of toast with honey lying neatly on a plate in front of him. “Like father like son, I suppose.”

 “They snore like father and son too,” Max said, yawning as he took a seat between Kyouju and Kai.

 Kai smiled. He had his own room.

 Their friends arrived from the other hotel a little before ten o’clock, and at ten precisely, two large black cars came to a halt in front of the hotel doors. A huge man stepped out of the first car. He had bushy moustaches and bushy eyebrows, and a great big belly, and he wore shorts, sneakers and a yellow Hawaii shirt that looked deeply out of place in the middle of the city. He shook hands with Takao’s dad, and with Kai and Emily.

 “Hello hello, everywan,” he said, sounding exactly as jolly as you’d expect, like a big Russian santa. “My name is Gregor Gregorovitsj. You can call me Gregor. I will be your guide today. I understand that some of you will be coming with me to look at the papers and other inventory that we cleared out of the abbey, while some others of you,” He looked to Takao’s dad. “Want to go see the abbey for yourself.”

 He looked at them expectantly. Then his eyes alighted on Sergei, and travelled to Boris, and down to Ivan.

 “Oh.” He said. He scratched his head. “... They didn’t tell me why you wanted to go there. Why would you want to?”

 “You haven’t heard about Vladimir Volkov escaping from prison?” Emily asked.

 Gregor looked surprised, and then a little embarrassed. “To be honest, nobody tells me anything. I am only archivist, but I speak English, so they sent me. I have never been guide before.” He frowned. “But if that man has escaped ... hmm ... that explains some things. I may not be told anything, but I do hear things.” He frowned a little more. Kai cleared his throat, startling him out of his thoughts. “But we should get going! Okay, those who want to go to abbey go in the first car; the driver knows way, and someone will meet you there to show you around. Everyone else, in second car with me.”

 “Who is going where?” Takao wondered. “I’m coming with you, Dad.”

 “As am I,” Kai said.

 “And me.” Boris took a step away from his own group towards theirs. “You won’t find anything without one of us going with you.”

 Kai turned to him. “Then it should be Ivan or Sergei.”

 “No,” Boris said simply. “It will be me.”

 Emily pushed her glasses up and surveyed her troops. “Sergei is taking point on the textual evidence, and Steve and I read enough Russian to aid him. Daitenji Kogoro mentioned a warehouse with inventory, so Eddie and Ivan are going there.”

 Kai rolled his eyes in disgust. “And how do we know you won’t have another episode?” he asked Boris bluntly. “You think going back to that place won’t trigger any memories?”

 Boris lifted his head stubbornly. “There will not be an episode. I am going.”

 “You are not safe,” Kai growled.

 “Stop it!” Takao placed himself between them, facing Kai. “If Boris says he will be fine, then he will be.”

 “Why?” Kai sneered. “Because you believe in him?”

 “Because I trust him,” Takao answered.

 Dad put a hand on Kai’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, Kai; we’ll be together the whole time. If anything should happen, we can handle it, but I think Boris knows best if he will be alright or not.”

 Kai shrugged off the hand. “I agree,” he spat. “I just also think he would lie about it.”

 Emily, Eddie and Steve were looking on in confusion and shock, while Ivan and Sergei’s faces were growing dark.

 Boris said something in Russian that was clearly an offer to throw hands, and Kai turned back to him like he absolutely meant to take that offer and go through Takao if he had to, until Max suddenly stepped in front of Kai and drove him backwards.

 “That’s enough, Kai!”

 Takao exhaled in relief as he saw Kai’s attention snap to Max with the irresistible awareness that Max always commanded of him.

 “This isn’t about Boris,” Max said, putting his hands on his hips and leaning forward like he was at work and lecturing one of his kindergardeners. “It’s about you. If you don’t want to go to the abbey, then you don’t have to! But don’t take it out on Boris!”

 Kai’s face got all red and pinched.

 Max straightened up and exhaled. “Kai.” He shook his head. “I’ll come too, and like Kinomiya-san says, we’ll go together, and if you’re scared I can hold your hand and then it will be fine-”

 “Just get in the car,” Kai said in a strangled voice and immediately followed his own advice.

 “Guess I’m coming with you,” Max said, nodding to himself like he thought he had done a good job, and Takao thought so too.

 Max had a way of diffusing – or confusing – Kai that sometimes came in handy.

 Takao just wished they could get to the heart of the problem. This was not about the abbey, he didn’t think so, though it was about going together, and about being lonely even when you were surrounded by friends.

 “Well,” Gregor said, swinging his hands back and forth by his sides. “That was awkward. Would you like to go now?”

 Kyouju decided to go with Ivan and Eddie to the warehouse, and so the teams were agreed upon.

 Takao didn’t know what Daitenji-san wanted them to find in that black stone labyrinth, but as they left the city centre and began to near the desolate edges where Volkov had picked up so many of Moscow’s orphaned and abandoned boys, his feeling of foreboding grew stronger. Something was waiting for them. Something they were not prepared for.

[simplyartistix-blog]

Your name and what name you would prefer to be called and preferred pronoun: https://transstudent.org/graphics/pronouns101/ (Links to an external site.)

My name is Elisabeth Keller, and my pronouns are she/her

Post 1 recent Image of yourself (could be preexisting). Please be tasteful!

Post 1 recent Image of an art piece, preferably painting, drawing, or printmaking (traditional or digital) that you are proud to share.

What is your major or intended major?

my intended major is painting/ drawing/ printmaking.

What are 3 things (but now limited to) that you would like to learn about painting or made you interested in this class? This could include: (related field, process/ technique, materials, concept, and/or overall/ anything). Please be in-depth when explaining these points.

I wanted to learn about the different mediums that were able to be used, how to stretch canvas, and about the different techniques I could use in my process.

Who did you have in Painting 1 and what was your experience of working with paint for the 1st time?

I had Amy in painting 1. I enjoyed my experience with her.

Have you been working on or developing any themes in your work? This could be from other classes or diciplines.

I have not, not just yet! The main theme I think I wish to develop in my future work however, is femininity.

[headcans-oneshots-and-stuff]

Teach me how to dance...(Preferences)

Requested by a flowery-fantastic Anon: would you consider doing some hcs for batsis learning how to dance from each of her family members

A/N: I know it became preferences, but I hope that’s okay, it just fit better. Also, I didn’t use all of the batfamily members (e.g. Jason or Tim) because I don’t know which dances they’d teach Batsis or how they’d be involved. If you have ideas tell me and I’ll add it :)

Bruce

Bruce teaches you the waltz. It’s just one of these things he conciders a daughter-dad moment and he enjoys it greatly. He’ll be dressed to the nines, suit and all, and lead you to the ballroom of the Manor, maybe even pay some musicians to play life music. And then he’ll teach you how the waltz. You’ll probably be very young at that point because with the life the Waynes live you have to be able to dance classical dances from young on and so Bruce took it into his own hands to make sure that you’ll be able to survive even the hardest Gala by dancing

Alfred

Alfred will teach you another classical, even though more rare, dance. The Foxtrot. It’s more complicated and ‘fancy’ then the waltz (from what I’ve hear, don’t quote me on that) and as Alfred just feels like it’s something that can only help you in life. For him it’s not just about the dance itself, it’s about the dicipline behind learning a dance and the syncronisation between you and your dance partner. Alfred also, just like Bruce, considers that quality time with his grand-daughter and he’ll be very happy everytime you ask him to dance with you.

(That gif wouldn’t work so you’ll have to life with that, sry)

Dick

Okay, I know this is an old horse by now, but.... He’d teach you some disco moves. Honestly, he’s so over his siblings making fun of his disco outfit that he decided to embrace it, learn some funky disco moves, and emberass his siblings with it on Galas or other events. And it works. He get’s way less comments from them. More so from the press now. But when he finds out that Bruce and Alfred taught you some of their dance moves, the serious classics, he decided that you should have some fun to. So why not some disco fun. You’re siblings will be less than happy when the two of you start funking out on Partys, but that’s the deal now

Cass

For Cass Ballet is a way to escape and to lose herself, but when you tell her how graceful and amazing she looks while dancing, and she decides that she could teach you some moves, it becomes a way for her to bond with you without words. Now it’s the music and the flow of the dance that connects the two of you and it’s love on a different wavelenght. Just like your other relatives, it’s a part of her that becomes a part of you and connects you. She’ll teach you everything she knows and even though it will be exhausting, painful and hard, you’ll be just as good as she is some day. It brings you closer

Damian

Damian isn’t a dancer, that’s out of question, but Damian is a fighter. And Damian is someone who won’t let himself be bested by his siblings, so if they can teach you something and connect with you over it, then so could he. And sure, if he can’t dance, then he’ll just have to find a fighting style that comes close enough. And he does. He’ll become an expert in Capoeira before he even mentions the wish to teach you, but as soon as he does he’ll act like you had nothing to do with it. He’ll be more kind with you, won’t hurt you during training or mock you when you lose against him or fail a move, no he’ll be almost soft. Strict, still, but also caring. He’ll also be very reassured the better you become because he’s still teaching you how to fight and to know that you can defend yourself is very important for him

(I know this is ATLA, but it’s inspired by Capoeira and I think it works pretty well with the idea)

Steph

As established here Stephanie Brown is a TikTok Icon and it shows. This girl will get you to learn tiktok dances with her, no matter if you like it or not. No discussion and no arguing. To be honest, alongside Stpeh it’s super fun and again, it’s a way to spend time and have a connection. It may be a bit more ‘silly’ than the others (if we ignore Dick) but you won’t take it any less serious. Not if your sister doesn’t

[thorinthehottotty]

Thorin Drabble - Sleepless

A/N: Missing my baby from this damn quarentine. I miss sleeping next to him and so I'm going to write this one to get some feelings out in a healthy and creative way!

Summary: After Erebor is reclaimed and everyone's made a (close to) full recovery, you are suddenly cast into a big wave of insomnia and can't quite figure out why. Thorin knows there is something wrong.

Warnings: Lots of fluff.

"Y/N!" The barking of your name has you jerking upright with a start. Your cheeks burn and you suddenly feel like a little kid getting scolded by your teacher in front of the class. It wasn't far off.

Only now it was Thorin scolding you in front of the council that had been strung together. Thorin always had Balin and Dwalin by his sides for these meetings, just as Dain always had his own dwarrow. Other than that, Thorin insisted you and his nephews join them in these lengthy (and less than entertaining) meetings.

"Is your king boring you?" Dain demands harshly. He always was looking for any way to rub his heel on your face.

"No," you manage softly, "I'm sorry, my king. Please continue."

"Dain, it is not your place to dicipline." Thorin's voice is tight and you can't stop the swell of pride in you. It draws you away from the back of the chair and upword. You would give your beloved king a reason to be proud by serving him well.

The meeting continued to dwell on. Glances always being casted your way. Thorin's face unreadable and you swear Dain's scribe was purposefully reading slow and monotonous. In the last stretch of this meeting, another meeting regarding the trade routes to the Iron Hills, Thorin leaned into his hand, letting his fingers cover his mouth as he watched you. The last words were barely out of the scribes mouth when Thorin practically roared to end the meeting, obviously fed up, he excused everyone.

You sigh in relief, climbing to your aching feet. Still, you felt embarressed to have fallen asleep at a meeting. This was the first time all day you could sink from your heels and rest. That must have been why you dozed off.

Sleep had been evading you enough lately. Maybe you could skip dinner entirely tonight, just crawl right into bed. The thought repulsed you a bit and you don't know why.

Finally, after months and months of fighting and surviving the adventure of a life time, you could reside in the reclaimed city of Erebor. The one you helped claim! (Sure as hell not King Dain of the Iron Hills). A bed was like a dream here. After the dragon and the battle and the terrifying process of almost losing the last of the line of Durin, since the end of the orcs and goblins and spiders, you could finally rest easy. Or so you thought. Sleep evaded you like Bilbo evaded Smaug. Caught, but craftier than expected.

"Y/N, don't leave just yet. I wish to have a word with you." You almost panicked when you saw Dain sitting beside Thorincs spot. Looking hella smug. Your king had stood and moved toward the fresh tea in the corner. "Alone, if you would, cousin"

"I have matters to discuss with you further, Thorin. I'd prefer not to have to track you down again later." Dain's eyes hadn't left yours as he spoke, a smirk slipping on his face.

"We will reschedule. Y/N, come take the seat beside mine." His voice is even. He is making tea, something you've never seen him do before. You don't hesitate, but his cousin does. He glares at you over the table.

"These are affairs of state-"

"And they can wait until after dinner. Go about your business." The snapping of Thorin's voice startles you both. Dain reluctantly stands and steps out of the room, narrowing a glare on you as he grumbles a curse in Khudzul. You ignore the word you don't know. When the door clangs shut your left with a sense of dread.

The silence incredibly loud. Thorin continues with the tea for a moment before carrying the tray back over to the table. "You like honey in your tea, yes?" You blink in surprise as he sets the cup in front of you.

"Ah, yes, thank you, Thorin." He smiled at the name. Insisting you call him that whenever it was just you and the company. The formal titles were just for appearances. He was kind and warm to those who had served him well on the journey.

"You look exhausted. Are your chambers not to your comfort?" He asks. Oh. He was not angry. He wad concerned. His face showed it.

"They're wonderful, Oín just thinks I'm not used to living underground. He says I'll grow used to the cycles." Thorin tskes his seat again, not drinking any tea himself. It warmed your heart that he made it for you.

The king hums, doubtfully by the look of it. "You do not agree?"

Shaking your head you sip the tea and smile. It was a white tea, one of your favorites. "No, I'm not prone to insomnia. Even when we were being chased by orcs I managed more sleep than this." Setting the cup down you rub the corner of your eye weakly.

"When did this begin?"

"Almost a full week now. I go to bed exhausted and wake out a dead sleep just as much as before. Then I can't sleep anymore."

"It wasn't affecting you while you took care of me?" After his fight with Azog and the chest and foot wound he gained. He still limped, but last week you cleared him. You slept in spurts on the sofa in his chambers for months to watch over him. A particularly gifted healer you were. But you still got more sleep, especially toward the end of it when his ever weeze didn't give you a heart attack.

Shaking your head you reach for the tea again, finding comfort in it.

"I find my own chambers rather quiet these days. I miss waking and finding you below the window." He gives you a warm smile and it has you grinning back at him. "The mountain has a stillness to it. A quiet that builds unease. It does not surprise me you cannot sleep."

His words make sense to you. You miss the quiet, even breathing he gave. The first month after the battle, the tiny amount you slept, it was spent with a hand on his shoulder, feeling the heaves he dragged in. You refused to leave his side and he never wanted you to. It made you grow closer.

"I'm sorry, Thorin." You sigh to him. You try to push away the tears in your eyes, feeling a bit frustrated.

"Could it be you are uncomfortable sleeping alone? Didn't you speak of having to share a bedroom most of your life?" You nod.

"That actually makes plenty of sense. I guess, I do miss Bilbo always managing to find a way to rest his head on me at night." The memory has the both of you chuckling fondly. The hobbit always found you approachable and often cuddled into you for warmth (you were by far the coolest in terms of temperature). Thorin watched you sip your tea quietly for a long moment. The both of you basking in the presence of each other.

"I would have excused you from this meeting today if you had told me how you were feeling." He murmurs softly. "Dain is particularly ruthless."

"I don't know why you want me in these meetings. I'm a healer, Thorin." You offer.

"I value your input. You always bring another light to the table and it should do you well to learn." He gives you a gentle smile and you can't help but reach a hand out to cover his.

Flipping his hand, your fingers end up in his wide, calloused palm. He gently closes his hand around yours. There is so much warmth in it, you let your eyes close and his touch sooth your frazzled nerves.

"I should probably be going on. Balin said he could use some help in the library. Thank you for the tea."

"Balin can manage on his own. Go to bed. Try to rest while you can. I'll send word to the old dwarf." He rose from his chair, leaning forward, your heart fluttered as he kissed you forehead gently. It made your cheeks pink and you melt into a puddle.

...

Your warm sheets are miserable to leave when knocking sounds. Carefully, you drag out of the bed and shlep to the door, dreading the knocking. You'd barely fallen asleep. You opened it to reveal one of Thorin's royal guards.

"Hello."

"Goodevening, Lady Y/N. The king is requesting your immediate aid in his chambers. It is urgent." Your eyes fly wide. What did her do now?

Without hesitate, you snatch your bag of supplies from the door and throw on a robe, sliding into slippers. You barely remember to lock the door behind yourself. When Thorin calls clearly from beyond the door, you rush in. He's at his desk, looking over papers and his room is delightfully warm in comparision too yours. Tending the fire always seemed to slip your mind.

"What did you do this time? I didn't clear you for any sparring yet, Thorin." You announce as you step up next to him. Thorin casts an amused look as the door to his chambers close.

"I'm sorry, you misunderstand. I just wanted to propose a solution to your problem." You find yourself arching a less-than-funny eyebrow. "Spend the night here. You can rest in my bed." Your eyes widen.

"I couldn't, Thorin. You said you've been struggling to sleep, too." He draws himself up from where he was leaning over the desk and smiles down at you.

"You can. I find your presence a comfort. Now go and rest."

"Not in your bed. I'll take the couch. I don't want to intrude."

"The bed is plenty large for the both of us." He offers and you see the rare mischevious glint in his eye. The one his nephews inheirited.

"Would that be proper, my king?"

"It is just us. No one should be intruding on the king."

You sigh and glance toward the enormous bed. A nervous thrill filled you. He grins at the little nod you give and pecks your forehead, making you into mush again.

"Thanks, Thorin." And with that he leads you over to the bed and draws back on the sheets for you. You laugh and climb into them as he tucks them up around you. The night wears on a bit as you doze.

When Thorin himself retires a short while later, you reach a hand out automatically. It rests on his shoulder again. And you were out like a light. So heavily that you didn't even hear the entry of Dain (and it was quite something).

Thorin glowered at his cousin's intrusion and sat up in his bed, nearly on the edge of sleep himself before this. "So this is why she's aways in the meetings? I can't believe you, cousin."

"That is enough, Dain. You speak to your future queen." He rumbled quietly.

"I don't see any braids. Why is she in your bed?"

"To sleep if you cannot tell. Just as I was prepared to." Dain shakes his head. In your sleep you give an adorable little whimper, face crumbling as your hand reaches. It quiets the room and they watch for a moment. Thorin slips a hand over the sheets, offering you his arm to calm you. It does the trick.

The king of the Iron Hills frowns and sighs. "Alright, I see. But this does not mean I trust her."

"You don't trust the woman who worked tirelessly an saved your kings life?" Thorin demands, carefully scooting closer to you in the bed, uncaring that his cousin caught him.

"She's not dwarrow!" Thorin pulls on your wrist, dragging your arm across him. It made him grin proudly when you curled happily into his side, effectively waking just a bit.

Not realizing Dain was standing at the foot of the bed, you buried your face in his chest and yawned. "Mmm, you're like a furnace." Thorin took the oppertunity to wrap his arms around you. His future queen. His one. Snuggled happily aggainst him.

"It matters not, cousin." Dain sighed, shaking his head.

"Fine. Just don't keep her up anymore. I won't hold back the next time she falls asleep in a meeting. First thing tomorrow, we need to speak."

"Aye. Goodnight." And Dain left, leave Thorin to pull you even close and give a lingering kiss to your head, not missing me goofy smile that spread on your still sleeping face.

[rpdepartment]

HLVRAI Sentence Starters ACT 2

34 starters || TW: violence, death

« oh, i wish it was a dream, it’s quite a disaster out there. »

« i trust your fists more than i trust myself. »

« that's a caffeine overdose, you need to drink less soda! »

« i'm the alpha male now. »

« i'm going ahead, i'll take one for the team. »

« stop. can you hear me? »

« now, [name], it's important to practice good trigger dicipline. »

« i want to go home. »

« listen, i'm not going to get in a fight over this shit. »

« you're a nasty little sewage boy, aren't you, [name]? »

« did you just hit me? »

« why are you avoiding eye contact? »

« hey man i saw you earlier at lunch. you owe me three dollars. »

« you're kinda shitty at shooting stuff. »

« does anyone know how i died? »

« who's gonna get in trouble? what the fuck did you do?! »

« you are a fucking anomaly. » 

« i actually don't know if you can help, that looks like hell. »

« i've never seen something like that! there's no article about that on wikipedia, the free encyclopedia! »

« shoot at it or something, DON'T SING! ... your voice is beautiful. »

« when we get out of here, i'm gonna write a wikipedia article about the thing we just killed. »

« [name], every cell in my body is in excruciating pain. »

« take that you damnable bitch! »

« my, that's a large gun. »

« you have a fucking menacing aura about you right now. » 

« i believe you should sneak up them and break their god damn necks. »

« be careful! more careful than a badger going after a den of snakes! »

« they can't do that! killing people is illegal! »

« if a cop rolled in here and you recounted all of our tales to them, we would be probably given the death penalty. if i had to guess. »

« i have no guilt weighing on my conscience, [name]. can you say the same? »

« i do believe we have single-handedly wiped out the united state military. » 

« be careful, [name]! these doors say "blast donger"! »

« i'm editing articles. i said you died in "all dogs go to heaven 2". »

« good news, [name]! this entire room is filled with computers! » 

[ramblings-of-a-mad-cat]

soo yeah, I don't know If I Actually gonna Work on The Hogwarts Mystery CYOA or If even Gonna make it public but Let's talk about The Personalities

For starters, The “Personalities” Mechanic affects relationships and The Backstory Of The MC in a way, I don't have names for it so I just gonna number them

Personality Number 1

short-tempered, studious, diciplinated, pessimistic

To start, This Personality Never could get their Potion ruined by Merula, apart from them being a Good student They Will notice it because They're perceptive enough and Will tell Snape, altought It Will depend If They're a Slytherin If Snape actually believes them.

Being in The lawful side of the bar, normally The Stats Relationship would be 0 Before You get an interaction with The Character, but This Personality Will have “-5” for default with Chaotic Characters, altought If The player want to befriend Them with This Personality Tulip Would pick on Them a lot

Also This Personality Is very conflictive so as Other personalities get “-5” in relationship Stats This One gets “-10” because realistically speaking They Will be a very hard person to befriend

Aligns with Gryffindor, Slytherin and Hufflepuff houses

Backstory Of The Personality: Comes from a Family well known in The Magic World, oh well, that was Before Jacob ruined everything. The Principal reason They want to investigate The Cursed vaults Is not exactly because wants to find their brother, Is More Like a Family Pride kind Of Thing, really resentful to Jacob for go with no explanation and leaving dirt in The Family name.

Personality Number Two

Kind, Servicial, Charming

As I Say Before, There's a change in The Relationship default points so Instead Of getting “+5” Relationship points They get “+10” Relationship points.

Aligns with Hufflepuff, Slytherin and Ravenclaw

Basically The Therapist friend, If The Player wants to be a prefect This One Is really indicated for This, Is aware Of People, feelings and wants really badly to help Others. Is probably The Personality that actually gets un Merula's head. Either in a negative way (She feels patronized) or in a “well, maybe You're no so bad” but Obviously to players who don't Like Merula MC totally could lose their cool and tell Merula Off What... yeah, it Will lead to a Situation where Merula totally breaks down, because If even The Most patient person give up on her She doesn't have to have regrets for being with R, r i g h t ?

Backstory Of The Personality: well, This Personality Is for default a Muggleborn who was adopted by a Pureblood Family, and Well, since They were saved They kinda got This Hero complex, Jacob was really protective Of Them and That's Why They want to return The favor to him “You saved me, I'll save You, Ok Jacob?”

Personality Number three

Brave, very black and White mentality, Superficial

They don't get along with shallow Characters Like Rakepick, Ismelda, Jae etc and have for default -5 Relationship with them, They're very distrustful for What gives Of Them in their surface, also They Can't accept The World if ull Of Grays because They either categorizar persons as totally Evil ior totally Good, that leads to idolize and hate when They don't have All The Facts, Lawful side Of things Again but actually can pull it off with Chaotic personalities as long as They don't have a Bad vision on them

Aligns with Gryffindor and Hufflepuff

Backstory Of The Personality: So basically They inherits their black and White Personality Of Jacob, who had a strong sense Of justice and kinda induced their sibling in The Thought there's only Villains and heroes, probably The Personality who has idolized Jacob to The point They Can't accept any despective perspective about him, Their Relationship with Jacob Is linda Like Harry and James in a way? Like their has something to use with discovering Jacob Is not a Hero and neither They are.

I Have ideas for More but I Will tell You Other day, ALSO, This personalities has their own Character Arcs for MC, They Can Get worse or evolve from Them All depends on players options

Okay before I go any further, I just want to say that I really dig this whole concept. It reminds me of the character building system from Oblivion. And speaking of the Elder Scrolls, I sure wish HPHM could be modded. I mean it can, of course, but not to the degree that something like Skyrim can, where people are overhauling the entire game to make it more polished and complex, adding hours worth of content. I’ve seen mods for Skyrim that do exactly what you’re suggesting to the character build system. It would be so cool to have something like this implemented. 

I guess the only issue with a system like this would be the inevitable restrictions that come from having to choose one particular personality type, and that would of course be the drawback. Does the archetype system box you in? Because if it’s just something as simple as starting bonuses and deficits, that works fine. Like if you had to work harder to get certain characters to like you, but it was still possible. If it wasn’t though, that might be a little limiting. People might gravitate toward type one but want to be friendly with characters from type two, and so on. In particular, this would matter for the core three - Jacob, Merula, and Rakepick. How your MC feels about them. 

In any case, I love this whole concept as a kind of “starting bonus” to help you characterize your incarnation of Jacob’s Sibling, because that secondary type? Has a lot in common with Luca. As for Gail, I’d have to say that maybe she’s a blend of types one and three? More aligned with three though. It all brings me back to the core archetypes in gaming: Warriors, Mages, and Rogues. Obviously every character in HPHM is a mage, but in terms of personality and soul, Gail is also a paladin. She may be a Slytherin but for the most part, she leaves all that sneaking and stuff to the gutter rats. Knock down doors and get down to business, that’s her way. Luca? Yeah they’re still a mage. And if a game has a personality system, where you can talk your way out of fights without drawing a weapon, they’d specialize in that. 

[prorevenge]

Try Picking a Fight at my Club? Enjoy Loosing All Your Students and Dojo

TLDR at the bottom.

A few years back a known local fraud we'll call Big Wiener (BW), from the local martial art community is a teachers assistant by day, and a vicious samurai warrior by night, in his head at least... He's gone to many legitimate schools long enough to earn a rank, yellow belt, first stripe, yellow sash, whatever. He's tried many legitimate arts, and I wouldn't take that from him, but he exaggerates what he's done to the extreme. This is all until one day he's a 10th degree black belt of McDojo U! A McDojo is what we call a fraudulent school with no basis on any practicality in anything. Obviously the martial art community rolls our eyes and basically tell him, you can't do that, so what does he do:

"Well Bruce Lee did it!" The classic line any fraud says...

Whatever, he's a bum, he'll never get any students and he doesn't make enough to get a place to start a school. He'll crash and burn, who cares. Unfortunately BW convinced the school board to let him do an afterschool martial arts program. Who are his students? Every emotionally vulnerable kid from highschool with low self esteem with a wish to prove themselves to everyone. Soon they get their 30 year old friends to join in! Suddenly he has an omnipresence with his students. His students from the AV club made a religious-like documentary about him for class. It was up on youtube for a while, but unfortunately I can't find it now.

Most students stuck around for a month or two and left, most complained to the school about it because "O-Sensei" BW obviously doesn't know what he's doing. 30% of his students however would have honestly given their life for him, loyal without measure. Soon enough the school board complies the complaints and tells him to get lost. So of course he starts operating a for profit school in a baseball diamond when games aren't being played. His fees were another thing, you pay a monthly dues of $80 to the BW school and an annual dues of $200 to the BW International Federation which is just him scamming inner city high school students for more money! Days when he's rained out, BW and crew sometimes makes unannounced drop ins to other schools around, any school that offers free demo classes that is.

My dojo, a multi-diciplined school that specializes in Jujitsu and Kickboxing, but we've got certified Teakwondo, Jeet Kune Do, Judo, wrestling, Yoga instructors and more. We strongly encourage our students to cross train all disciplines. Admittedly there are better fighters and competitors in town, but I think it's safe to say we're the nicest school around, and those who do compete do well, but that's not our focus. Honestly, that's what we're known for and that's the way we want to keep it.

BW and his loyal enforcers show up at our school on a typical Tuesday, Jujtisu, kickboxing, judo and grappling. They choose to do all the classes. Jujtisu is focusing on self defense tonight. BW was admittedly respectful and watched and took in what we were showing. His cronies however snickered and laughed under their breath, and always had an extreme hypothetical "what if they do this..." situation for every single thing we do. No joke, we were doing a BASIC defense from a wide punch, the student asks "What if they do a scorpion kick to follow up?" Anyway we showed them some stuff, they scoffed at it, no biggie, it's self defense stuff, it can be theoretical some times.

Next up kickboxing, focusing on Thai drills. BW is overweight and it's a hard class, you get a good work out. He's pooped and of course it comes time to spar, the announcements made: "Of you're new go with some one experienced and GO EASY!" BW partners up with our beefiest instructor (Beefy), he's slow but can pack a punch. With no energy BW tries his best to show his students what he's made of and goes full force on Beefy

"Whoa, slow down, don't hit hard, I'm going easy, it's all about respect, I'm working tomorrow, we're not going hard"

BW doesn't heed the warning and goes all in again, Beef slides and dances around him.

"I'm not telling you again, I will knock you down if you keep going hard"

BW puts all the power he has behind one final superman punch. Beefy bobs and weaves and pushes him to the ground, no punch necessary.

The room stops and EVERYONE stares at BW, his honour has just been tarnished in front of all these people... BW biggest Enforcer Dude (ED) walks over to Beefy verbally glove slaps him and challenges him to a duel.

At this point Beefy tells him:

1 - We don't do that here.

2 - You've been disrespectful to us all night.

3 - Cool your ass down unless you want to get kicked out of here!

Tensions are high but they clear soon enough. Judo and gi-grappling starts, everyone's calm. Despite being throwing masters of a 'Japanese martial art' BW and Co can't fathom the most basic throws, o-goshi, seonagi, osoto gari (white belt judo throws). By now a few of BW enforcers are coming around and learning that maybe BW isn't all he's cracked up to be, he's outskileld by our orange belts.

So now it's grappling, the class is rolling around, BW is done, he can't do this anymore, he grabs a seat and watches. ED however wants vengeance, but first he works the room. He's going to show off and tries to partner up with the scrony 16 year old. I give my 16 year old freind the thumbs up and go for it, but decide to 'ref' the match. 45 seconds in, ED taps. Next match, 30 seconds, taps... ED is pissed, and BW has seen the whole thing, what a disgrace! That's it it's now or never. He rolls up his sleeve and reveals a BW Martial Arts McDojo TATTOO! He's been branded!!

"Listen Beefy! I want to roll with you, I'm a former military and I'll make you tap hard"

Beefy is unimpressed, tired, and just doesn't want these guys to come back.

"Ok, lets roll..."

Match starts, BAM! What happened? ED is tapping he doesn't even know how he got there or even remember how this technique was applied. They go again, BAM! He does the same thing. BAM! Happens again! ED gets up and leaves. He doesn't wait or acknowledge BW or anyone else. Most of BW students leave but one oh his guys, Mouth Off Boy, gives us a hard time

"Why'd you have to disrespect a grand master like that?! You guys are garbage, fuck this school, no respect!"

"Ok, leave now or we're calling the cops"

Not long after that, BW lost most of his loyal students, save for Mouth Off Boy whom would eventually branch off and start BW Sidekick's School of Killology For Cool People McDojo in Ottawa. It didn't last when he couldn't keep students and soon moved back home.

BW moved his school into his mom's garage and started to focus on teaching younger kids, but never keeps anyone for more than a few months. His school comes and goes, it's been down for a few years and has recently he tried to resurrect his club but it didn't work out. BW doesn't go to other clubs any more.

The good news in all this, ED became a regular at our club and good friends with Beefy. Initially he came back to challenge him and eventually was won over by his kindness and high skill level. The two hated each other but in a few months would go to lunch and the movies on days off or double dates with their wives. Turned out he was ex-military, think like Bill from King of the Hill, and last I heard he removed the tattoo.

TLDR: McDojo Master comes to our club with his top students, they make an ass of themselves and learn their masters a fraud, McDojo shuts down not long after.

(source) story by (/u/linkhandford)