but failing obviously

anonymous asked:

Aro/aces inherently LGBT? Thru what cavity? I'm not tryna to start shit with you or weva, and ya obviously ace/aros are valid. but look up material oppression. It isn't really a matter of being apart of lgbt peole so much as the fact that lgbt oppression is related to court rulings, and systematic murder (re: the aids crisis). It affects income, housing, and other LGBT specific life affecting laws. If you have any information to being ace/aro ppl being affected by this lmk, I'm truly curious

When I was 15 my parents decided to take me off my ADHD medication and try this experimental thing called neurofeedback. It supposedly stimulates your brain into correcting itself. Obviously it failed miserably, but there was a list of symptoms my parents were told to check so the person could customize my treatment plan. This was shortly after I came out to them as asexual. Do you know what one of the things they checked off? ‘Having a low libido’.

Guess what? That was the only thing that stupid treatment worked on was my fucking libido. (BTW Libido does not equal sexual attraction, I’m still ace for being hypersexual) It caused me to feel arousal all the time for no fucking reason and as a person who’s gone through some sexual trauma it was so horrible. I hated my body so much. I hated that I felt these things with no trigger. I have been hypersexual (and sex repulsed at the same time and it’s honestly hell) for some time now, but I was used to that level of it and able to deal with it without triggering nasty memories or anything, but while doing that I couldn’t.

Fortunately I’m no longer doing that treatment, but that’s a real experience of asexuality causing real problems.

And here’s a few more instances if you want to read up on them.

Your opinion on the matter is valid and all, and I don’t think of you any less as a person, but I hope reading my own story will give your brain something to chew on.

-Maple

3

namjoon: i’m not sure what you think, but you play a major role in building the mood in our group. you take care of the stuff i sometimes miss as a leader. i always envy you. you’re the most professional member in our team; you’re stable, that’s the quality an entertainer should have. // ©

dating jasper hale would include...

Originally posted by jacksonrathbons

hanging onto his every word because you adored his subtle, but sometimes thick, southern drawl.
him enunciating his words to make it sound thicker  
you are insanely infatuated with him
he loves every second of it, wearing a small smirk all the while
his nose buried in your hair; he loves breathing in your scent
his head on your chest; the sound of your heart beating comforts him like none other
your fingers raking through his long locks
listening to him open up about his past as a soldier
feeling your heart ache at the pain behind his topaz eyes
you being a bit uneducated about history (and rather uninterested)
he begins to call you ‘little girl’ at your lack of knowledge & experience in life
the pet name sticks much to your dismay
“i am not a little girl, jasper!”
“march 5th, 1770. what historical event was that, my love?”
“jasper, you’re a dick.”
“such a dirty mouth for such a little girl.”
nearly puking your guts out when the time came to meet his family
him having to calm you down with his power a lot
dancing around his bedroom to very old records he owns
he teaches you to dance since he’s an excellent dancer
you’re incredibly clumsy, especially around jasper
he thinks it’s highly amusing & only embarrasses you more when he gracefully catches you or swiftly retrieves something you dropped
— him catching you off guard a lot
he likes to dip you nearly to the floor & kiss you unexpectedly
it never gets old & it makes you feel cherished each time he does it
catching alice gazing at the two of you, smiling as she sees visions of the future
when he proposes, alice sees the vision & spoils it as she’s horrible at keeping secrets
cheesy, lame vampire jokes
“i heard being a vampire really sucks.” 
“you’re horrible at jokes, little girl.”
but he actually is quite fond of them since they make you laugh
teasing him about sparkling in the sun
“shine bright like a diamond, jas!”
those remarks often end up with you trying to outrun him, but obviously failing
him watching you sleep; he loves seeing you look so peaceful
he calls you darlin’ 24/7
you love it because his accent grows thicker
— he’s a huge sap
him handling you with impeccable care, as if you’re made of glass


ok idk how i’ve never really noticed or cared about jasper in the twilight series and i’m so pissed at myself because he’s actually so great and attractive

• Lena asking Kara if she can ask her good friend Supergirl to come over to her office to teach her kryptonese.

• Kara why-am-I-jealous-of-myself Danvers agrees.

• Lena trying her best to inconspicuously ask phrases like “will you have dinner with me?” “Will you go out on a date with me?” “Does pasta sound nice?” “You look beautiful” “they should name the stars after you” and other romantic fluff and obviously failing

• Kara getting nervous that Lena might be flirting with Supergirl and wanting to go on a date with her, confirming her horror that Lena might be more attracted to what she can do rather than who she is

• Lena going to Kara’s apartment that night and stuttering while she tries her best to say those phrases right with flowers in her hand

• Kara just MELTING, not even caring about the paper work that comes with Lena knowing

 so Judy here is probably mad at NIck for no good reason (or mabe there was smth, but she overthinked it), and NIck.. y’a know, just being Nick and teasing her, while she’s trying her best not to fall for his charm hohoho 

kevin day (disdainfully): lacrosse

  • Kevin and Neil HATE lacrosse more than life itself
  • Once, Andrew calls Exy ‘stickball’ and lacrosse ‘stickball on grass’
    • Kevin isn’t sure what he’s angrier at: the fact that Andrew called it stickball, or the fact that Andrew insinuated that lacrosse was the same as Exy when it obviously isn’t
  • Kevin criticizes the new Foxes by telling them they would be B-list lacrosse players. One boy bursts into tears.
  • In one memorable interview, Neil calls Riko the lead attacker of Edgar Allen’s lax team
    • Wymack is furious. Nicky is ecstatic
  • A lacrosse player: “I hope making fun of us makes you freaks feel better about your shitty lives and shitty team”
  • Neil: “I am sorry that you are stuck playing for a less exciting, less popular wannabe version of Exy. I am also sorry that your daddy wasted lots of money on Exy tutors trying to make you less horrible. It obviously failed, because you’re stuck with this pathetic excuse for a sport, and could never hope to be even a quarter the players we were. Clearly you’re projecting your bitterness on your own lack of talent, but that doesn’t give you an excuse to bad-mouth my team. You can kiss my ass and my championship trophy.”
  • Neil, on twitter, keeps liking and retweeting articles about why Exy is better than lacrosse. His PR team has given up trying to get him to stop
  • One brave reporter asks Kevin what will happen if his daughter doesn’t like Exy. Unfortunately, Kevin has had several stressful games and a couple of nightmares about the Nest; he’s too tired to control himself, so he says, “As long as she isn’t a lacrosse fan, we’ll figure something out.”
  • On some late-night practices, the lacrosse team swears they see a figure watching from the top of the bleachers, a black trench coat fluttering in the wind and a chess piece tattoo on his left cheekbone.
    • He watches scornfully for a few minutes before turning away.
    • “Sometimes, when I feel bad about myself as a striker, I like to watch them practice. Then I realize that I could be much, much worse,” he tells Jean in one video call.

deakvalid  asked:

How do you deal with players succeeding on checks they would obviously fail? One of my players characters has never met an orc but happened to roll a nat 20 on a really obscure orc related history check and it just doesn't make any sort of sense for them to have this knowledge.

This is a topic I’ve wanted to touch on for awhile, so thanks for your timely question!

Originally posted by albotas


In the Rules As Written for the RPGs I’ve played, the only context in which rolling a 20 means an automatic success is when you’re attacking someone.  And even then, all it means is that you definitely hit them.  Some opponents can’t even be criticaled, so it doesn’t necessarily even mean you did anything dramatic. That being said, I do enjoy letting people also get criticals on their skill checks, because I think it’s interesting.  It’s a house rule I always play with.  Rather than thinking of 20s and 1s as automatic successes and failures, though, I think of it as an opportunity for something interesting to happen.  The degree to which the player actually succeeds still depends on how difficult the thing they are trying to accomplish is.


If a player rolls a 20 on a skill check they’d reasonably be able to do, they succeed admirably.  The result is above and beyond what you’d normally expect.  It’s a standard Critical Success.  If they roll a 1 on something you’d expect them to be able to succeed, they fail (even if the total result of their roll plus their skill points would normally allow them to succeed).  I often use Nat 1s as an opportunity for some slapstick comedy.  So, the druid rolling a 20 on their perception check not only spots the approaching griffins, they notice the signs that the griffins are a mating pair, and thus there should be eggs near by.  That same sharp-eyed druid rolls a 1, and is so absorbed by the sight of a majestic butterfly that they trip over some tree roots right before the battle begins.

Originally posted by ifoundsomethingfunny


Now, some things the players attempt won’t be things you’d reasonably expect them to be able to succeed.  Hell, sometimes they’ll try something that in your mind is downright impossible.  In these cases, rolling a 20 doesn’t mean they succeed, but it should still mean something interesting happens.  In the example you gave, maybe the player suddenly remembers a rumor or a random factoid someone else told them about orcs during their travels.  If it would actually be impossible for them to know the fact, than maybe instead they get a helpful hunch. Like, maybe they remember the lines of some obscure childhood rhyme that give them some insight, or they’re able to get a clue from some minor detail.  
Sometimes, when a player rolls a 20 on something that should be impossible, it just means they don’t fail as hard as they absolutely should.  Like, if they try to hide somewhere with literally no cover, they obviously can’t.  But maybe, they roll a 20, and the sight of them trying so earnestly to be invisible when they clearly are not is amusing to their opponent.  It’s not a success, but it’s a slim possible advantage over a complete failure.  

Originally posted by disastrousalacrity


Your players may sometimes try to argue with your decisions about the outcome, but they don’t have a leg to stand on.  According to the rules, skills aren’t critable, so anything you give them is a bonus.  Use your judgment, try and think of something interesting, and make the call.  As you get better at improvising, these moments will probably become some of the most memorable parts of your sessions.  Thanks for the question, and good luck!

Melody.

Series: Hoseok | Jin | Jimin | Namjoon | Jungkook | Taehyung

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff; Soulmate!AU where you can hear music only if you have a soulmate.

Word Count: Roughly 3K

Note: Happy Birthday to our very own Min Yoongi! This is basically my way of trying to celebrate it, and it was supposed to only be a drabble but… ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Originally posted by bangtannoonas

The silence only lasts for a moment. It’s brief, and it’s fleeting, just like your love seems to be.

Jinyoung’s looking at you, you can tell; you don’t need to look at him to know it, since you can feel his heavy gaze resting just between your shoulders, under your neck. The air is cold, just like your heart, and when you finally turn around, to meet his eyes, the gale stops too, as though it knows. Your head is empty, no soft music murmuring into it, and when you look at him, you can tell from the hollowness of his eyes that his is too.

“I guess…” You speak first, softly, fists clenching, “I guess this is where it ends?”

“It doesn’t have to.” He answers, just as quiet, though his stance speaks volumes, “We can still try.”

“It doesn’t work that way.” You cross your arms, head still ringing from the silence, and it’s tough trying to stop your eyes from stinging, “You…You know that as well as I do.”

“Soulmates aren’t everything, Y/N.” Jinyoung asserts, looking at you with his eyes crinkled, not in joy, but in solemnity, “Just because you don’t hear anything doesn’t mean you can’t feel it.”

“You found your soulmate though,” Your words are flat, dead, “I have no place in your life anymore Jinyoung, and I think…I think we both need to accept this.”

You hold up your wrist, showing him the faded mark.

“My soulmate’s dead. There’s no way to turn that around, and I’m okay. But you’re not,” You gesture helplessly at his wrist, where an intricate pattern of flowers blooms beautifully, rich with its pink hues, “You still have someone out there waiting for you, crossing their fingers to find their soulmate, so you can’t leave them all by themselves.”

The tears finally spill out as you take his hands—his warm hands—in yours, smiling up at him through blurry vision.

“Y/N—” He breathes out, his own eyes glistening, and you shush him, reaching up to card a hand through his hair.

“Always remember,” You say gently, voice shaking, before you lean up to press your trembling lips against his, letting the tears slip freely, “That I love you.”

He looks at you once, before his arms come to wrap around you, and you let him.

This is a goodbye, after all.

Keep reading

i used to wait.
wait every second for a maybe
wait every day for something uncertain
i used to wait for him.
always waiting for the day
he’ll say “i’m over it”
the day future plans get fullfiled

i hate waiting.
waiting for him to say “let’s go together today”
to make sure he got home safely.
waiting for the day he’s ready.
the day it doesn’t him hurt anymore.
but all i got was “i like you but i’m sorry,”
that turned into “she’s my new dream”

—  something you do that you no longer do
9

I saw a few of these floating around for other fandoms and got inspired

Dark Times

Hiiii! I’m sorry I haven’t posted in a while, summer’s been busy! I hope you guys like this piece!! Depending on the feedback, I might make a multi-part fic out of it!! xx

•••••••••••••

Below his office, the party was in full swing, both regular and new clients filing in through the wide double doors. Harry watched the crowd move like cresting ocean waves, his eyes blank. New Year’s Eve was to start off with a bang, regardless of the obviously failing Prohibition the country was under, which meant that Harry’s clubs were packed, and his bank account was swelling with money from the alcohol Niall was slyly smuggling in from Ireland. Any night he wanted, Harry could have a bird on each arm, eager to get a taste of the Harry Styles, and the mere whisper of his name sent people scattering out of his way, making his life unbelievably easy. Harry smirked around the butt of the cigarette. This was it; this was why he came to America. The women, the power, and most of all, the money. Money, money, money was all Harry had seen over the last year. Prohibition was the best thing to ever happen to him.

The clock struck eleven fifty, and with a smug grin, Harry lit up another cigarette and grabbed his glass of Irish whiskey from his desk, striding to the office door. Throwing it open, Harry emerged into the small balcony overlooking the bar and dance floor, blood thrumming as cheers went up at the sight of him.
“To Mr. Styles!” One of the performers on stage hollered out, and crystal glasses glittered in the lighting as they raised into the air.
“Mr. Styles!” It was a jumbled roar of his name, and Harry smiled wickedly as he tipped his head and brought up his own glass. He glanced at his pocket watch again. Five minutes till midnight. His eyes went to the door again as it swung open, two young girls stepping into the room. From afar, he could tell they were both gorgeous, but the one on the right….she was a sight.

Hair curled to perfection, eyes sparkling with excitement as she clutched her comrade’s arm, her ruby painted lips splitting into a dazzling smile. A golden fringed dress clung to her body, stopping halfway down her soft-looking thighs, and the small inched heels were the last thing Harry saw before the girls stepped from the stairs, disappearing into the swirling party. The whiskey burnt his throat as he threw back the rest of the glass, turning to retreat back into his office. The New Year was of no importance to him; as long as no laws changed, Harry worried about nothing. He didn’t worry about how the raucous crowd took him back to the trenches, didn’t worry about how his hands shook as he poured another glass of whiskey. The chair creaked as he sat down again, breathing in the smoke of his cigarette and letting his head drop back. Harry’s eyes slipped closed and he sighed, mind going back to the golden-dressed beauty that had just slipped into his speakeasy. She wouldn’t be too hard to find, or too hard to seduce into his bed for the night. Harry had an aching hunger in the pit of his stomach to know how she would moan beneath him.

Two minutes till, Harry stood once again and descended the stairs to the main room, feigning a smile as he pushed his way through the drunken partygoers. Hands grabbed at him as he passed, but he paid no mind as the shimmering of a golden dress swirling across the room caught his eye. Then her friend came into sight, and Harry altered his course to get to her. She was even more beautiful as he neared, her face pretty, but not flawless. A little soft-looking, doughy maybe, around some areas, but a curl of desire yawned deep in his belly; he was tired of the perfect pin-up girls he normally took home. He wanted flawed, perfectly flawed, and this woman was it. She was gorgeous. Harry watched her friend’s eyes lock in on him, an eyebrow raising as she leaned into the girl’s ear, whispering.

Your head twisted around, following your best friend’s gaze to a stunningly beautiful man that the whole crowd seemed to part for. Forest green eyes roamed your body leisurely, his candy pink lips tugging into a smirk when he realized your eyes were on him. The man was dressed in a sharp black suit, a gleaming watch strung across his buttons and disappearing into his waist coat pocket. Broad shoulders, ring decorated large hands, and legs that went on for ages. His curly brown hair was pushed back off of his forehead, the sides a little longer than military style, and the set of his jaw made you think maybe he was indeed coming to flirt with you. The alcohol you’d downed in the half an hour at the club up the road was already fizzling through your blood and making you much more brave than normal, and you sent the man a sultry smile as your eyes met. Nothing but dark, hot promises swirled in his gaze, stoking the crackling fire that blazed in your belly. Tonight, you’d let yourself have fun just once. Every other night of the year you were the good girl you were supposed to be, but tonight…tonight you’d let loose.

“He’s got his eye on you,” your friend whispered, a jealous gleam in her eyes. “You’ll be the only one of us to get a fuck in tonight.” You laughed at her brashness, breaking your stare with the stranger to spin around with the music. He was close now, almost within an arm’s reach. Your dress flared out around you, but you were stopped mid-turn by long fingers wrapping around your arm and tugging you into a solid chest. Warm breath puffed on your neck, lips just centimeters from your skin.
“Yeh dancin’ fo’ me, love?” He wasn’t polite about his desire, his voice low and husky in your ear. His hands moved to your waist, his hips pressing into your back. You could feel him against you, half hard through his trousers. Wetness pooled in your panties.Your best friend had melted into the crowd, leaving you putty in the stranger’s warm, wandering hands. The hem of your dress slid up a little, his touch following shortly after.
“I am now,” you breathed, and you can feel the smile on his lips against the skin behind your ear. His tongue darted out to lick over the shell of your ear. His fingers trailed higher, and you couldn’t bring yourself to care how scandalous it was, having a man slide his hand up your dress in public.
“Do yeh wan’ m’ to fuck yeh?” Your breathing hitched as his thumb brushed the line of your underwear. A low chuckle vibrated against your back. “I’ll take that as a yes. Go straight back, staircase on the right. I’ll be there in a mo’.” Then he was pushing you away, straightening his overcoat as he cordially greeted some senator who definitely was not supposed to be in a speakeasy.

Harry watched you stumble towards his office, his jaw working as his eyes followed the way your dress fell over the swell of your ass. He cleared his throat. “Excuse me, gentlemen, but I’ve got some business I need to take care of.” Harry shook the senator’s hand, turning around and shoving his way across the floor. He took the stairs slowly, mind racing as he neared the door. He couldn’t wait to see how quickly you’d fall apart for him. You were admiring the photographs on his desk when he entered, your eyes snapping up to his.
“Your family?” Harry nodded, clicking the lock into place before shrugging off his overcoat. You watched him swagger over to you, his eyes dark.
“Didn’t invite yeh up here t’ talk about m’family, pet. How d’yeh wan’ it?” He wasn’t a complete beast; Harry loved seeing the way women fell apart because of him. There was something awfully aphrodisiacal about knowing that he was the reason a woman was shaking, moaning, falling over the edge. You blinked at him, stunned for only a moment before composing your unbothered expression.

“Any way you’d give it, honestly.” Harry’s eyebrow quirked. A smug smile pulled at his lips as he walked to you, his fingers dancing up your arms. You swallowed at his sudden closeness. He smelled wonderful, like citrus and cotton sheets and man. Your mouth had practically been watering since the moment you saw him. His hand pushed a piece of hair out of your eyes.
“An’ if I said righ’ here, ov’ m’desk?” You squirmed, mind filling with visions of him fucking you on the dark cherry wood. Before you knew what you were doing, you were perched on said desk, legs crossed and head tilted slightly as you looked at him from under your lashes.
“Don’t make promises you don’t intend to keep, Mr. Styles.” Harry’s pants tightened further at your words, a growl coming from his throat as he stalked to you. His lips met yours, hands cupping your cheeks as you gasped in surprise. He took the opportunity to slip his tongue past the seam of your lips, licking into your mouth eagerly. Your hands fumbled with his belt as he shallowly thrusted his hips, the hard outline of his cock brushing your thigh.

He was quick to shove down his trousers and underwear, his length tapping gently on his stomach. Your mouth watered at the sight of him, flushed, hard, and leaking. Harry smirked at the look on your face, one large hand wrapping around himself and tugging forward once, twice.
“None o’ tha’, angel, no’ tonight. ‘M gonna fuck yeh, yeah? Bend yeh ov’ m’desk and spread tha’ cunt real nice. C’mon, up yeh come.” Your blood sizzled at his words, lust raging through your system. Your panties had no hope; they’d been ruined the minute his suit jacket had come off. Harry helped you up, spinning you so your back was to his chest. Warm lips began to sponge up the side of your neck, greedy hands hiking your dress up slowly but surely. Then he was roughly bending you over, flipping the edge of your dress up over your back enough so he could see your backside. A low growl went through him.
“S’pretty, love, gorgeous. Can’t wait t’ be inside o’ yeh.” Your panties were slid to the side and a long finger ran up your slit, your body jerking at the pleasure. “Bloody soaked. Wan’ me t’ help yeh, pet?” Your cheek was pressed into the cool wood but you nodded, hips pushing back against his finger as he swirled it around your clit.
“Please.” It was a broken whimper that sent Harry’s dick throbbing, his eyes gleaming in the dark of the office.

“Shhh, sweetheart, ‘M gonna take care o’ yeh.” Harry wasted no more time before he was sliding inside of you, a delicious burning stretch following. The moan that came from him was almost enough to send you over, low and gravely and pure pleasure. Then Harry was moving, his cock thick and pulsing as it dragged along your walls. You cried out at the feeling, palms slapping to the desk as Harry ran his hands along the curve of your spine, grunting with each thrust. The party downstairs was all but drowned out as the sound of skin against skin filled the room, heavy breathing bouncing off the walls when his hips picked up speed. Your eyes screwed shut as pleasure coursed through you, walls clenching around Harry’s cock.
“Fuck, bloody–” He cut off with a deep moan, fingers dumpling the skin of your ass. Harry’s green eyes lowered to watch himself disappear into your cunt, a pleased smirk tugging at his lips as you writhed beneath him. His hands were everywhere, stroking the soft skin of your thighs, gripping your ass, wrapped in your hair…too much, it was all too much for you to take.

“Gonna cum!” You gasped against the desk, hips pushing back against his as he fucked into you. He was so thick inside of you, pulsing and warm as his tip brushed a spot that had you seeing white. “Harry!” Low moans came from him, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he felt heat coil tighter in his belly.
“C’mon, pet, cum fo’ me. Need yeh t’ cum,” he panted, reveling in the way your walls squeezed his cock. He’d never felt a cunt so tight and warm and wet. He was in pure bliss. Harry brought a hand to your heat, fingers circling your clit quickly as you called out his name again. Pleasure shot through you, your orgasm speeding towards you, and with a final thrust, Harry pushed you over the edge. He watched your face crumple in satisfaction as you came, cunt tightening wonderfully around his length. It wasn’t long before he followed after you, thick ropes of cum coating your walls. Your thighs shook as you came down, breathing harsh as Harry pulled out of you. It was silent while you both fought to regain your breathing, adjusting clothing and smoothing down hair. Harry’s face was even more beautiful post-orgasm, and he tasted as good as he looked when he pulled you in for a sloppy kiss. His head bobbed to the couch in the corner.
“You can sit there for a mo’ while you calm down. Be sure to shut the door on yeh way out.” Then he was gone, the office empty and cold without his dominating presence. You fell onto the couch with a sigh, a pleasant ache already forming between your thighs. It wasn’t too long before your head was on the arm of the sofa, your eyes drifting shut as you nodded off.

Sometimes it feels like I’m drowning and I just–suffocate.

Lance starts being afraid of what he loves

(tryna color but obviously failing)

bonus slav:

they bond over mutual fear (shiro is not amused and hunk is low key worried about lance)