trade skills

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I don’t know… night vision.
          There’s a rune for that.

Something I love about the cluster is that there are the characters who we immediately think of as “the ____ one”, the one who’s clearly the most dramatic or smart or funny one, and sure, they seem like that at first, but then you dig deeper and you see that it’s not them who is that quality. 

For example, the fighting ones. We think of Sun or Wolfie, but look at Riley every time there’s a moment to fight. That girl looks pissed. She is ready to fight and she’s not going to let anyone hurt her cluster. You know who’s blown up more things in this show? It’s not Wolfgang. It’s Kala

We have the smart ones, like Kala and Nomi. Or the ones to get you out of trouble, like Sun or Will. You know who else is smart? Who else helps them get out of sticky situations? Lito. He’s a jack of all trades, and his skills pop up in ways that are small but ensure their safety. Sun needs to kill her brother? Fine, yeah, Lito’s going to ace that drink-making and make sure she’s in the place she needs to be. Sun needs to escape? They need to save Riley? They need a distraction? Lito is going to act his ass off and make sure they can leave or enter a situation with no suspicion around them. 

And finally, the dramatic one. 

Lito’s the first person who comes to mind but you know what? Forget that, he may be dramatic but you know who’s even more dramatic? Wolfgang. Wolfgang “I’m Going to Interrupt a Woman’s Wedding Buck Naked” Bogdanow. Wolfgang who was nervous about meeting with Lila and instead of simply asking for help, went and made sure to dramatically walk past each Sensate. And what’s more, after each asks him what’s wrong, this boy deliberately says nothing and only tells Will he can handle it. And then walks away. He pulls the most dramatic ask for help so yeah Lito may be more vocal with his drama but Wolfgang Bogdanow is just as fucking dramatic. 

And that’s not even really touching on Nomi, or Capheus, or Sun, but it’s there. And it’s amazing that even though each Sensate has a specific role, something we attribute to them, we see the others be just as good as them in it, be just as helpful, or smart, or even dramatic, and it’s a nice reminder that these are 8 people who are connected, and in more ways than one. 

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[Edit: It was brought to my attention by @magical-girl-kyra that the proficiencies section mentioned a feature called “Trade Skills” which was ommited in the final version of the class. This error has been removed.]​

Perhaps you are looking for a challenge for yourself or your players, or perhaps you would like to add an extra level of storytelling into your campaign. Whatever the reason, I present to you the Commoner Class for Dungeons and Dragons 5th Edition!

This class originally started as something I wanted to do for a personal character, but quickly grew into a concept for a campaign I am now working on, and I thought I would share my concept with all of you.

Don’t be afraid to try it out for yourself. There’s a reason I’m posting it here.

Shoutout to @basalt-dnd and @dettan-arts for helping me balance this class out.

youtube

I agree with this. I have a degree in studio art, but it doesn’t really do much for me. I tried getting a degree in chemical engineering because it’s a STEM field, which means jobs, but I’m lousy at chemistry and math, and I found working in labs to be very dull. I’m now learning how to solder, and not only do I have a knack for it, but I also enjoy it. There’s also many job opportunities for a soldering technician in my area, and it pays more than flipping burgers or working retail. And there’s benefits. Soldering technicians are in short supply. Trade skill workers in general are in short supply.

I had to ask myself, “What am I good at? What am I bad at?” I know I’m good with my hands; put something in my hands and I can make things out of it. I can cook, bake, brew, sculpt, paint, draw, and so on. I’m terrible with people and have found my jobs at retail very stressful and miserable for me. I’m also only working part-time and have no benefits. I learned about trade skills and went to learn one, and I’m happy with my progress. It really is a shame that people put so much emphasis on college and degrees. I didn’t realize trade skills were a thing until very recently. I knew they existed, I just never really thought about them.

If you really want to follow your passions and go to college, I seriously recommend talking to a counselor. I told him the same thing, that I love working with my hands but I’m introverted, that I would like to do art, but I want a degree that will bring me work. He suggested graphics technology. I’ll be learning graphic design, web page design, videography, 2D and 3D animation, and a few other things. 

And I still have soldering to back me up if things don’t work well. Seriously, don’t completely write off the idea of pursuing a job as a blue collar worker. They may not be too glamorous, but the training is much shorter and cheaper, and you can make money faster than going to college, and there’s also avoiding that pesky college debt. You might find you really like it to boot, especially if you’re a handy kind of person.

Getting a job as a soldering technician should easily let me be able to pay for my own college so I can pursue my passion, which is art. It’ll be wonderful to not rely on financial aid and my family, and be able to take my classes at my own pace.

Don’t throw away your passions, just be smart in regards to them. If your passion happens to be in an area full of opportunity, you’re in a very good position! Not many people are that fortunate.

Anyway, I’ve been seeing a lot of posts about people struggling with finding work and hoping this may help at least one person.

*yells*

Food service labor is devalued and wage-depressed because everyone thinks having to pay at all for people to make your food is a luxury because women should be doing it for free

anonymous asked:

Got any imaginings for your various Izukus meeting one another? How would villain Deku react to BYGGUALOM Deku? To MSU Deku? (Assume villain!Deku figures out something is up with MSU!Deku so he doesn't just treat him as a regular civilian). Would BYGGUALOM!Deku and MSU!Deku end up commiserating over their mutual dislike of publicity if they met?

god… i do have some imaginings. i actually had this conversation with @salvainterra just like last week and it is probably the single most self indulgent and simultaneously gut busting conversation i’ve ever had. sorry everyone i’m like this, here’s the best parts of the conversations with all the keysmashes taken out

Keep reading

The Resolve To Agreement

Challenge ideas. Respect people. Celebrate individuality. 


Negotiation is a business method in which people settle a matter of mutual concern in order to resolve conflict. It is a process involving compromise and agreement in the pursue of finding a common ground.

It could be easily defined in three parts, first presenting the problem: my side and your side, exploring the two ends of the situation: what each side wants, and bargaining with a positive closure: making decisions and agreeing upon it. It seems fairly simple, yet, a lost art in everyday situations.

Disagreements are part of human discourse, not just business. Everyone experiences life differently, and as a result, we all convey different thoughts on everything. While celebrating diversity is important, every human joint effort requires understanding for development. Unfortunately, chances are different trades and skills will not always agree intuitively, for example: programmers would consider the code to be the soul of the project, whereas artists might think they are the identity to what everything needs to come together; everyone thinks they know the value of what they do, but not everyone will understand value the same way. Sometimes being caught up in what you do, doesn’t provide sufficient perspective to grasp what you are doing it for - that’s how disagreements are born.


In order to practice negotiation, important variables like listening and respect need to exist. You have to listen, because you are being presented to on a point of view you do not have, and chances are you do not understand. Instead of waiting for your turn to talk, just actively pay attention; and respect, because you may not be able to digest it at first, but you can recognize ideas different to yours exist, and explore them without accepting them as your own.

Negotiation is only one of many steps in how to settle business disagreements. If there is no coherent way to adhere to a conclusion via legal structure or upfront planning, then there are other ways to find resolution. Acquiring a third party to guide and provide guidance on the conflict, via mediation; or by management agreements, commonly known as bylaws – specific contractual guidelines presenting previously agreed scenarios, and options to avoid possible conflict. If all goes wrong, then there is court action, seeking the help of the ultimate arbiter of a business dispute, a judge.

Ideally, you would want to avoid wasting any time or money. In business, a petty disagreement can make or break teams, including disrupting financial planning. In your personal life, any informal debate can lead to fracturing friendships, or even getting yourself fired – depending how emotionally invested said disagreement can be, even a civil lawsuit. No matter how frustrating it might be, it’s important to keep your emotions in check.

Job negotiations, for example, they can become somewhat difficult at times; yet, being polite and concise might get you considered for another offer, in contrast to being disrespectful, that will only get you automatically discarded. As a society, disagreements are far more common nowadays than any form of kindness, insulting won’t vindicate your perspective, but weaken it. When you disagree, you don’t need to convince those who already agree with you, but bring to your corner those who do not – otherwise, there is very little agreement to be had. Negotiation is a great tool, practice it as needed.

Be nice to each other, people. Each other is all we’ve got.

So- the time has come again that I’m having major issues with my PTSD, and I need a good distraction. What i’d like to do is maybe do some art trades with others!

Basically; I want this blog to keep going but I also want to broaden my horizons with drawing. If you’re interested, I would like an Asphodel picture in exchange for a drawing of any pokemon that you choose! (As long as it hasn’t been asked for twice)

I won’t be doing this for long, as I worry that this will get out of hand and be more destructive than beneficial; so I’m capping the asks for the trades at about 5, unless I feel that I can do more. This will be a first come first served situation, but please don’t be salty if you miss out; I can only do so much at this point in time.
Please message me privately if you’re interested!

Current Trade Slots and their progress:

- askivarandellie’s Zoroark (finished!)
- just-ask-autumn’s Llyr (finished!)
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(The picture used here is by @dailyrowlet, not me. I just wanted a soothing picture to put with the post)

 so some fun facts about working in carpentry (from someone in the field) that probably no one wants but could be fun for writing about julia and mags with:

  • it is so so important to maintain a positive relationship with your clients and that’s probably why mags is so proud of his rustic hospitality and wants to use it at every corner because your relationships and reputation is half the job
  • for one you get returning clients and tends to be the best and most reliable source of income and you also usually will end up getting gifts from them too which is, sweet
  • if they’re doing pretty well off during a year i’m almost certain that they offer discounts for their services for the poorer members of raven’s roost, mangus in particular has a “doggy discount” that if they own a dog and they let it work with him they get a good discount
  • both of them (+plus stephen) are probably ambidextrous to a degree as when working on repeat projects, you tend to get really tired and sore and continue working until that arm gives out and then switch to the other to be able to continue working
  • going with that, you get paid by commission or project usually and so hypothetically you could pick up as many as possible (or as many as the union will allow) and probably will do that a couple times and you could literally blow out your entire body but be set for the year in a couple weeks
  • going with the stress on the body, the physical labor definitely means that they have bad knees and probably a bad arm as well not to mention if there is a lot of heavy lifting you can get multiple hairpin fractures along your spine and legs causing intense pain that cannot be treated 
  • also if they’re working with saws (which i’m pretty sure trav did say were in the pocket workshop) then i have no idea why mags reacted so badly to losing a finger because everyone i have ever worked with has or has almost cut off their finger once a week
  • also you get a very high tolerance for pain (which probably helps mags as being a sword for hirer)  like i have literally sliced my entire forearm open and just wrapped it up and continued working
  • since raven’s roost has a carpentry district, that most likely means that they have a lumber sister town that provides all of the resources
  • and again, going with the importance of rustic hospitality, if you’re friends with the lumber providers then you will get first pick on the quality wood and quality literally will save you days of work
  • if there’s a bad harvest one year then it will fucking suck because people don’t stop needing furniture or buildings and you as the carpenter have to pick up the slack for the shitty warped wood and most projects will take about double the time
  • woodworking is a skill trade and has to be learned over years so most likely by the time mags came along julia was already extremely skilled and is able to do commissions and bids on her own and has her own reputation in ravens roost (which…tbh mags could have very well apprenticed under her) 
  • it is extremely hard to go from apprenticing one carpenter to another because even the basics get muddled with your own style to the point where most people measure in different ways and cutting something wrong (especially cutting it short) will waste so much material thus mags being brand new to apprenticing under stephen probably takes years while jules just laughs each time he fucks up a leg of a chair

anonymous asked:

How did you find your pantheon? You mentioned pop culture and personal rep, did you come up with them??

 Hey darling!~

Oh gosh my Pantheon is something i’ve been working with off and on for several years. I had the inspiration come to me when I was a teenager and I went to like a muesum/collection thing and got inspired to associate certain Gemstones with certain royal titles. they were originally going to be for a murder mystery story i was working on but that never got off the ground unfortunately haha.

From there they kind of laid dormant for a while until i began starting to get back into witchcraft and such. I knew i wanted to work with a pantheon but none of them really called out to me much like how my court does. When i decided I wanted to work with them I already had their Stones/Court Titles picked out from my earlier story (a few minor title adjustments were made -a few court members got elevated to higher statuses which they seemed content with so i knew i was on the right track-) From there i began looking into it more and found several links that were really super useful for me when coming up with correspondences and associations for my court because at the time I wasn’t sure if i even wanted to use Pop culture icons or not (or even which ones i’d want to include)

Pop Culture Paganism: An introduction
Creating a Pop Culture Pantheon

This last one by @thiscrookedcrown really REALLY helped me a lot with breaking down my god/desses into spheres of influences:

Creating your own Pop Culture Pantheon: an Ask

(This is getting long so i’m gunna put the rest under the cut so i don’t kill your dash :’D)

Keep reading

JOKER X READER ; THE OATH. ft. Harley Quinn

Author’s Note; This is actually my first Joker imagine so hopefully it’s up to par with the thoughts you were thinking. I included Harley in this one since you made her presence known in your ask, but I really hope this is what you were looking for. Hope you don’t mind me throwing in a name for her at the end. I tried to make the oath scene DIFFERENT but SIMILAR the way you asked so I HOPE that was up to par too. I kind of made it up as I went along to be honest with you >.< I really need to do more brainstorming before writing. Hope you like it!

   Your eyes scanned over the the meal you were cooking absently as you shifted your weight in an attempt to subdue the upcoming annoyance you were trying your best to control. It wasn’t like you to be so emotional, but the fact that you had completely thrown your life to the wolves in an attempt to please a maniac who didn’t seem to appreciate you set your rage on edge. 

For an entire year you had worked under the Joker like some secretary assistant; fetching food, picking up coffee, cleaning up blood and other unknown substances at his beck and call just because he was too afraid to see you for what you really were; an asset. 

How many security systems had you broken into for him and his hench men? how many bodies had you piled up to prove your loyalty? And how many of his friends and followers had you patched up to save their lives all to prove your usefulness? Well, you were done. No more.

“Fuck it. I’m not gonna keep doing this to myself. If he doesn’t want me to be part of the crew then i’m done. No more favors, no more tests, no more free help. Just fuck it.” You grumbled aloud to yourself before letting a shrug ripple through you. 

Frost had paid you a good amount of money to patch up those gunman the other night, and even more for being available to help them out every now and again, but as of this morning you denied any further payments and refused to answer any of Frost’s or Joker’s phone calls.  

the distant sound of your phone vibrating against the table to the right of you pulled you from your thoughts and a flimsy hand reached for it to examine the name. 

“J” it read simply and instead of declining it, you placed it back on the table and allowed it to ring until it went to voicemail. You weren’t kidding, you were done.

Stirring the wooden spoon over the now fully cooked pasta you had been making, you placed the sauce soaked end of it in your mouth and held it there. Perfect. Pulling the finished product into a near by bowl, you couldn’t help the smile of accomplishment that plastered itself across your lips. How long had it been since you were able to properly prepare a meal for yourself? Your time had been so engulfed in doing the dirty work of mister j and his company that you lost sight of your own simple pleasures. 

The small bounce in your step was nothing compared to the giggle that resonated in the pit of your stomach. For some reason you felt empowered by it all, the idea of standing up for yourself and cutting off the head of your misery in which was also known as mister J. You were a jack of all trades and every skill you had, you offered him. Your hacking skills. Your medical knowledge and supplies. Hell, even your cooking skills, for you made sure no one went hungry. Yet, instead of making you a part of the gang, he kept you at arms length and for what? 

You could feel your frustration growing, but before you allowed it to reach its peak you laughed again. He would not upset you tonight, tonight was your night to yourself to relax and you’d be damned if that was going to be taken away from you. Tonight was dedicated to patching up the gash on your ankle in which you suffered while on a mission for him. Tonight was dedicated to remembering who you were outside the hive of him. Tonight was dedicated to normalcy and that was a fact. 

the darkness of the room was half illuminated by the television and the sound of one of your favorite sitcoms filled the air. F.R.I.E.N.D.S. It had been too long since you were able to fully relax and let loose. The pasta hit your stomach with a heaven that you couldn’t describe and you found yourself slightly dancing around your apartment singing the FRIENDS theme song that you had become so familiar with over the years. You felt as though you resembled a small child the way you radiated excitement, but a distant pounding on your door stopped you in your tracks. 

A glance to the wrist watch around your forearm revealed the time as 2:45AM, who would be knocking on your door at 2:45AM? Could it have been your neighbors complaining about the noise? Although the tv wasn’t really all that loud, they weren’t used to you really being home given your side job as the joker’s, well, what would you be considered? a secretary, a fool, an idiot, a fangirl, what?

you scoffed before pulling the spoon from your lips and peeking out of the peep hole of you apartment door. it was pitch black and you couldn’t tell if someone was covering up the hole or it was just dark as all get out. Instead of taking a chance on it you decided to ignore the knock and return to your spot on the couch. If it was one of your neighbors and you didn’t answer they would just assume you were asleep and come back tomorrow, however, the knocking persisted and you found yourself growing impatient. who the fuck was it, it’s 2 AM. 

Your frame slid over to the door to glance out the peep hole only to see nothing once more, but the voice on the other end alerted you of the identity of the knocker. “Knock, Knock Doc-tor.” the voice instructed sliding through the confines of the door and gripping the back of your spine with a hold so strong you couldn’t move. 

Your body slid against the door to insure it was locked and you attempted to stay as quiet as possible. Your car wasn’t in the parking lot, and there was no possible way he could be sure you were even home. You stood there for a glimmer of a moment listening to the sound of the tv playing in the background and his chuckle was strained. “Come on Doc, knock knock….” he urged once more. Your eyes rolled in annoyance, a knock knock joke, really? Your pearly whites raked over your bottom lip to ensure you kept quiet and his finger removed itself from the peep hole for you to see him clearly. his frame leaned elegantly against the door way but there was a strange limp to him. what was he doing?

His fingers reached to his pocket and the back of his purple and gold phone gleamed against the light of your neighbor’s porch lamp. Your head twisted violently in the direction of the couch and the silent prayer you spoke to yourself in hopes that it was still on silent was answered when the small sound of buzzing hit your ears. Your body tip toed in the direction and you swiftly declined the call with a message. 

“Picking up food at a friend’s. Can’t talk.” you typed back before pressing send. There was another chuckle at the door and you frowned. 

“Clever, but no dice. C’mon doctor……” he answered more irritated than before and the casual knock from before was more aggressive now. A second text was sent to your phone.

‘open the door. you know i hate repeating myself.’ it read. you frowned. 

‘i’m not at home. i leave the tv on for the cat.’ you lied. The knock from before turned into 3 loud bangs against the door before you finally spoke aloud.

“Whaddya want?” you question while folding your arms across your chest and balancing your weight on one leg. 

“That’s not the joke doc. Knock, knock.” he insisted and his breathing was off as if he had just did 7 flights up and down your apartment stairs. You were in no mood, and instead of playing along you simply opened the door. 

“It’s 2AM. I don’t do jokes at 2am. what are you doing here?” you question while the look of aggravation spread across your features like the plague. The look on his face sent a flame through the back of your spine that warned you to back down, but you wouldn’t. Never had anyone from the gang visited your personal home, it was a boundary that you had set from the beginning of time. The simple fact that he crossed that line only infuriated you more. 

Should you really be surprised. The joker knew nothing of valuing someone’s personal space. He’d walk into the bathroom as you pee’d or showered without a second thought while maintaining complete composure. It was nerve shattering. 

An eyebrow tensed as you stared down at his posture, his hand was cupping his side and he was leaning against your door way. Was he injured? 

Frost’s expression was apologetic as he stood behind him, and you knew he had no intention of taking him any where else.

“The hell happened to you?” you questioned folding your arms across your chest an in attempt to hide your concern. “You shouldn’t be here.” You warned while peeking out of the door frame only to hear him laugh.

“I called. When I call, you answer.” He grumbled and your shoulders slid back in offense.

“I ain’t some errand girl, I got other job to do outside of you.” You mocked. Truth be told, most of your clientele backed down when they found out you were working for the joker. Something about not wanting to step on toes and fear of occupying your time when he needed you. He was a selfish creature, the joker, and the idea of someone else using his resources always ended in some form of violence. “Sides….” You trailed off pulling the door closer to you and leaning against it in a gesture to inform him that he wasn’t welcome. “Ya had ample opportunity to lemme in your little crew, and you dissed me. I refunded ya money. Leave me be.” You instructed, but there was a low growl in his demeanor.

“Non-refundable. I pay you, ya work….unless ya want me to break those little money makers of yours.” He threatened glancing down at your hands.

“Then what use would I be? That makes no sense.” You argued only for him to smirk at you in return.

“Ohhhh? I’m good at spottin’ a good thing when I see it, and if I can’t have your expertise then…..no one can….Now, ya gonna be a good girl and lemme in pumpkin?” he questioned, but before you could actually answer Frost pushed passed you both. He was never one to really stand by and let you two argue, he was an action person and was most likely fully aware that this was going no where.

“What is this, a slumber party?” You asked allowing your arms to stretch out on either side of you as Frost held up his injured boss. He guided him into your living room and proceeded to lean him over the couch.

“He said you could patch him up, and we all know you can. C’mon …..i’ll pay ya double.” Frost pleaded. His eyebrows knitted together into a look that could rival the cage of a thousand puppies crying for assistance and you knew full well that you were faltering long before he even entered your home. Frost was acutely aware that it wasn’t the money that lured you, you genuinely adored him to a degree; he was like a brother to you. Although Mr. J was a sadistic boss, he also had a small place in the back of your mind when it came to his health.

“Patch him up? I’m not some home health care doctor. I can’t keep patching you up every time you get hurt J. You need to go to a hospital, where they’re trained to handle this, with legit medication.”

“Yeah, got it, got it, got it, got it.” He answered in a slight whisper while waving his right hand in your direction as if to dismiss you. His frame slid down to sit on your couch, but you frowned and slightly shoved Frost in his direction.

“Don’t get blood on my couch, put him on the floor or something!” you urged while turning back towards the front door to ensure that it was locked. You couldn’t help the growing aggravation that centered at the forefront of your mind. The entire situation made you uncomfortable because this was your home, your private place of peace and he was invading it with blunt force. You had one boundary, ONE boundary that you didn’t want to be crossed and yet here he was gracefully ignoring your wishes. What or WHO ever had hurt him, could have followed him here and been lead straight to you, and that was the last thing that you wanted. Your business life and personal life was kept separate for obvious reasons, and suddenly the swift collide of the two of them left you slightly disoriented.

“Mr. J, she said….” Frost trailed off while J flashed him a look of utter annoyance.

“I heard her, ain’t deaf.” He grumbled kneeling down onto the small wooden end table that sat in front of the couch. Even in this state he couldn’t follow directions, how unsurprising. It didn’t take you long to retrieve your medical kit and the supplies you were sure you needed to aid him in his injuries. When you returned to the room Frost’s hands were gripping at the joker’s coat in an attempt to help him undress and you instantly frowned.

“Don’t undress him, he’s not staying.” You urged moving over to them both and resting the box a few inches away from his body. His body leaned back slightly and his features were drenched in an expression of disapproval.  

“We got a deal kid, and there ain’t no walkin away. If ya can’t hack it, I can give ya a bullet right now.” He advised putting on a show with his hands and aiming his middle and index finger in your direction. The tips of his fingers grazed your lips before he sounded off an auditory “bang” while pulling the imaginary trigger.

“Still enough energy to talk slick out ya mouth. Good sign. - - I ain’t take an oath with you Mr. J, remember? Ya pay me, I give you services, isn’t that what ya wanted?” You stated in an as-a-matter-a-fact tone. Truth be told you were slightly offended by it. You had done all this work because it gave you purpose, Frost and the other henchmen were like your family, and to reduce you to nothing more than a paid handler instead of making you a hench girl only pissed you off. He didn’t need to blackmail you, he didn’t need to threaten you, you cared for them all, but he was so gung hoe on not trusting any one that he kept you at arm’s length like some errand girl. It wasn’t fair.

“What happened to your leg?” He questioned while tilting his head to the side and you rolled your eyes at the idea of him trying to change the subject. Was he really that dead set against giving you the oath like all his other hench people? What was so fascinating about pushing you away like this? Was it fun? Was it all a game? So much for family. Perhaps you should just accept it, be the cold hearted employee that he yearned for. Stop caring, stop striving to do more just be callous. 

You didn’t answer him. Your attention was no longer on him and instead you focused your mind on patching up his injury, he was shot at. The bullet went through and through but his bleeding was irregular and if she didn’t stop it, he’d surely bleed out onto the floor.

“Get me some towels outta the bathroom, and some alcohol. I gotta stich ya.” You stated bluntly. Opening the small kit next to you, you sharpened your irises on the small needle and thread sitting at the bottom of the right corner. It shouldn’t be hard, stitching was usually the easiest part, getting him to hold still was an entirely different story. There was no numbing agent, but the faster he let you get it done, the less it would hurt.

Frost was timely with the materials. A long towel in hand for the floor, a hand towel within reach for you to wipe away the blood and the alcohol to sterilize. It was time.

Your emotions were rattling you, and the pent of rage you could feel towards his current actions caused you to be slightly unsteady. A deep rooted sense of you was delighted that there was no anesthetic, you wanted him to feel this pain, for it was nowhere in comparison to the pain he had caused you.

His flesh was tender, and throughout the first 3 stitches he was handling the pain well until a constant purring continued to fall from his lips. It radiated through his body and caused your fingers to vibrate against his skin.

“Don’t be a pussy.” You warned trying once again to focus. You stop immediately when you feel his eyes on you and you look up at him only to have it confirmed. You had never seen that look before, it was a mixture of offense and a hint of rage. “Your growling is only making your blood pump faster. If you keep it up, there’ll be too much blood around the stitch for me to continue. My house. My rules. No pussies.” You urged again, firm in your threat. Although he was the infamous Mister J, he was in your house and you wouldn’t stand for disrespect. If he thought this one bullet wound was bad, he’d hate to be the brave soul that chose to face off with you in your house of wonders. Everything, was a weapon.

“Blah, Blah, Blah, Blah, Blah….” He trailed off more to himself than to you and in an effort to emphasize your annoyance, you pulled tighter on the stitch. His grumble was audible and his hand reached up to cup your chin in a grip that you were sure would bruise.

“Careful.” He said simply, and with one word you were slightly terrified. All banter aside, you didn’t like that tone; it was drenched in lethal acid and surrounding by cautioned signed duct tape.

The remainder of the stitching didn’t take long and with a borrowed patch, you stuck gauze over the polished stitch and handed him some pain relievers.

“I don’t wanna see you again.” You urged. His head tilted back before returning to the center of his being with a look of patience.

“Don’t you?” He questioned.

“I ain’t a part of your crew, remember. Just a working Jane. Next time if I’m not available, you’ll just have to wait your turn.” You nodded. You were surprised when his eyes rolled off to the side before a smile slid slowly across his lips. It was like you could almost hear the click in his head as he realized your true concerns.

“Ya really wanna know why? I’m a man with a plan Pumpkin and nowhere in it, does it include you.” He answered truthfully while using his hands to motion to himself before finally allowing his right hand to fall down slowly in front of you.

“Jesus, ya act like I’m askin to be your wife or something. I’ve done everything you’ve wanted, everything I’m capable of to help you and the rest of your little family and all you can do is throw money at me and treat me like some errand runner. I’m more than that. I’m valuable, and if you don’t want me around then fuck off. Don’t call me, don’t pay me, don’t drop by my house, just leave me alone if that’s the case.” You answered tossing the money from earlier that week in front of him on the floor.

“Already told ya, ain’t no walkin away Princess.” He warned.

“Then I want in, and I mean really in, not this intern crap you’re givin me. What’re you so goddamn afraid of?  Ya think I’m gonna betray you or disappear? I’ve been runnin with all of you from the beginning, everything you and Harley have needed of me, I’ve done without a problem. Even Frost likes me, Frost!” You answer angrily while motioning your hand in Frost’s direction only for him to shrug in response. “So what is it?”

“Ya want me to truuuuuust you? Give you the keys to the kingdom all because you can complete a few tasks? Uhhhhhh.” He patronized with an ending sound of annoyance before turning his back to you. His right leg inched backwards, tapping the side of the brief case you had just thrown, and sliding it back in your direction. Was he not listening? You did not want the money, you wanted IN. Being an outsider was something you had always been used to especially when it came to your normal life, but you had recently discovered that it was because you weren’t normal and you didn’t want to be. Being a part of Harley’s crew, doing everything you did for your fellow hench community always made you feel like you were a part of something bigger than yourself. You found solace in them, and in return they trusted you, but instead of fully listening to you and giving you what you wanted, Mr. J always found himself sadistic enough to watch you fall apart over the idea of ONCE AGAIN not belonging any where. You had become so alone that you convinced yourself it was your choice, but it wasn’t. You were already half way there but you lacked his blessing, and without HIS blessing, nothing mattered.

Your anger bubbled over, and before you could stop yourself you grabbed the alcohol from the table, poured a few inches onto the brief case and lit it aflame. The small silver plated lighter engraved with your name fell into the fire you had just caused and your chest heaved up and down with the emphasis of your rage. When you were originally recruited you were set to be the doll of Harley Quinn. You were ordered to do her bidding, keep her company, and assist her in any way possible. These tasks were child’s play at first, until you slowly found yourself doing so much more. Aiding the henchmen in heists, thievery, murder, you had offered your soul to him and instead of giving you a firm price, he continued to bid. Well, no more.

His neck rolled around his shoulders while his lips fixed themselves into a hard line. His eyes glanced over to Frost for a glimmer of a moment and Frost instantly removed his jacket and tossed it over the result of your indiscretion. It took a moment for the fire to dissipate, but you were immediately sure that Frost’s jacket was ruined.

Your eyes did not leave the Joker’s frame, even when his irises sharpened so deeply against your that you could have sworn that the fire was still blazing under you. You could swear he had run across the room and shoved you against the wall, but it was only a glamor put forth by your mind because he had not moved. His eyes faltered for a moment to the half burnt money sitting between the two of you before returning to you.

“It takes more than thaaaaaaat.” He scoffed before stepping around the tarnished currency elegantly. His body circled yours as if he were a lion strategically seducing his prey while Frost stood perfectly still in the distance.
“Is that the kinda restraint ya practice in ya daily life, pumpkin pie?” He joked throwing his hands on either side of him and motioning to your life style. He was demeaning you, throwing the casual nickname around to emphasis to you your place, the child, while he, the adult or stature in the room commanded dominancy. You wouldn’t give it to him.

“When ya ready to let that go, come find me.” He bargained with a grumble while flicking the small area between the bottom of your chin and the center of your chest. A small stammer backwards tarnished your posture while he slowly grabbed Frost and exited the room.

The night has passed slowly and you spent most of the day doing trivial tasks that were only meant for the hands. Your mind studied his words as if they would reveal the location of the holy grail if you pried them apart enough, but instead you gathered nothing. What did he want from you? Hadn’t you done everything he’d asked? Everything Harley asked?

When ya ready to let that go, come find me

It repeated in your head like a mantra as you slowly began to realize the double edged meaning behind his words. Your normalcy, your frailty, and everything that made you who you were decorated the halls of your apartment and the empty life you were trying so desperately to hold on to. You had no family, and what little family you did have, you never spoke to. The friends you once had in school, dissipated years ago and you couldn’t remember the last time you had actually seen them. You’d never been in love or been loved so that wasn’t an issue. The crew was all you had, so what in this life were you so desperate to cling to? Were you willing to let it all go?  

Night came quickly and you found your body lifelessly heading in the direction of the pent house associated with Mr. J and Harley Quinn. Why were you headed there? You didn’t even know how to do what he had asked of you, yet you couldn’t stop yourself. You needed more.

Your hand rose to knock on the penthouse door only to hear the joker on the other side tell you to come in. How did he even know you were there? A chuckle nearly passed your lips, you designed the security system, the cameras, of course he knew you were there.

You weren’t surprised to see Harley leaning against the large window that took up half the wall of the pent house. The curled dip died pigtails sat elegantly against her shoulders as she flashed you a smile. You had never seen that smile on her face before, it was a mixture of acceptance and mischievousness.

“Whaddya want?” He questioned demanding your focus.

“I….” you trailed off. What did you want?

“If ya don’t know, ya shouldn’t ‘ave come.” He warned while fiddling with the small bar of alcohol in front of him. His back was to you again as he spoke and you didn’t like the idea of not knowing what to do.

“Ya told me to come.” You stated as a matter a factly. He scoffed.

“Yeah…..when ya were ready. Are ya ready?” He questioned finally turning to you and casually leaning against the bar.

“Yeah.” Before you could fix your face to show your seriousness, you heard Harley laugh to your right.

“Get outta here, Kid.” She urged with a sly smile looking off to her right and away from you. Your heart beat quickened and you turned toward Mr. J.

“Ya heard her.” He nodded while tipping the glass in his hand in her direction. They were orders, orders from your bosses that you were taught to uphold and ever so slowly you felt your body tense back towards the door. You should leave, you should get in your car and just leave, but the aggressive voice in the back of your mind stopped you. It mirrored yours but held more stature with your brain. The deep sense of hatred loomed in it and you slowly began to recognize it as the same voice you usually heard when you were killing, stealing, or doing something you felt you had a purpose for. How many long nights, forgotten days, bullet wounds, cuts, scrapes, gashes, bruises, black eyes, internal bleeding, heists, business deals, and drugs had you been involved in? How many times had you risked your life out of sheer obedience and love for the two of them? You are powerful beyond reason and you weren’t just an asset, you were a solider. You knew it. They knew it. And it was about time that everyone else did too.

“No. I ain’t leavin.” You spoke up mirroring the voice in the back of your frame. Mister J’s eyebrow rose while Harley tilted her head in response. “I’m part of this and ya don’t just get to throw me away. I’ve done everything you’ve asked plus more. All your trials, all your initiations, all your stupid tests I’ve passed with flying colors and THIS, this is my decisions. I’m not leaving. I want this.” You answered setting your chin and raising your brow. Harley nodded before flashing a smile towards Mr. J.

“Show her, Puddin.” Harley’s voice echoed in the darkness of the room that was illuminated by nothing more than the mood shining through the window. Mister J’s eyes flickered from her with acceptance while he rested the drink back on to the bar.

“Is that what you want. To embrace us and only us? Will you consign your soul to me and laugh at the world in disgust the way we do?” He questioned sauntering slowly in your direction.

“Yes.” You stated.

“I’ve only asked this of one other, and only one has taken this pledge. Do not take this oath thoughtlessly. Desire becomes surrender, surrender becomes power. Think carefully now, for once you’ve taken this oath the gates of sanity and normalcy will be forever closed to you, and the self you knew will cease to exist.” He urged, once again invading your personal space and closing the gap between the two of you.

The sound of Harley moving slightly in the distance caught your ears, and the audible lighter in her hands flickered a small flame nearby. She was burning something, most likely out of boredom, but you couldn’t look away from him to see what it was; his eyes were like hypnotic oceans pulling you into a trance you could not escape.

“Yes. I know.” You stated simply.

“In order to be reborn, one must die. Would you die for me?” He questioned seductively.

“Yes.” You responded.

“Would you live for me?” He questioned again and your eyebrows wrinkled. A nod slid through your posture and he shook his head softly.

“Use your words….Say it, Say it, saaaaaaay it.” He demanded placing his hand under your chin.

“Yes.” You answered and suddenly his eyes released you allowing you a second to finally breathe. Harley was by his side now, how long had she been standing so close? Her right arm slid over the back of his shoulders while her left hand handed him a ring. She slid it onto his finger delicately and the center of it caught your attention. The decorated “J” was slightly orange and for a moment you could tell it was glowing, but you assumed it was catching the light of something in the room.

“Then, it’s been a pleasure knowing you ( insert reader’s first and last name here ).” He stated simply while looking down at his hand and refusing to maintain eye contact with you. Your eyebrows knitted together in a hard line of confusion as he finally glanced at you. You were caught off guard by his fingertips against the sides of your neck and the gentle massage of them caused your eyes to flicker in Harley’s direction. What was he doing?

The sliding of his thumbs around the front of your neck gave you insight to his intentions as the burning sensation of his ring digging into your throat caused you to gasp. The grip of his hands around your neck cut off your air supply and stopped you from screaming at the burn resonating on the left side of your throat. Harley’s light show earlier with the lighter was her burning his ring in preparation of this moment, he was branding you, but even after the brand was sure to have taken to your skin his grip did not end.

 Your fingers were steel bars around his wrists, but he did not budge and the lack of oxygen to your frame forced the room to spin. Your frame moved backwards in hopes of colliding with the floor to get him off of you, but instead he only flowed with you. The floor came slowly and after a few seconds you could’t feel anything anymore. There was a heat in your chest that rivaled against the flame filled ring that had already burned his infamous symbol “j” into your neck. It spread throughout your body and left you limp under him. You were dying, why was he killing you? 

His eyes connected with yours and you instantly felt yourself let go of his hands preparing yourself for what you knew was coming. Death. It didn’t take long for him to fade from your view and the sensation of being under water over took you. Your body felt heavy but light. The encompassing darkness was inviting rather than scary, and there was an overwhelming peace to it all. 

Oh infamous Clown of Gotham, you are a magician. Mystically pull me together the same way you have broken me a part. Every day you awoke with the realization that, that day might be the day, but you never knew it would end like this. 

A force of great proportions leveled at your chest and before you could stop yourself you felt your body lunge forward. A gasp of air entered your lungs, but the breath was not yours, it was placed there with the assistance of another. Shallow breaths slide through the base of your lips and the coldness of the room slowly became apparent. With the realization of life hitting your brain, your limbs twitched ever so lightly beneath you and the growing migraine at the base of your skull alerted you that life was restored.  

A peek from behind stubborn lashes revealed Harley’s hands on the base of your chest and Mister J’s lips inches from yours. 

“What should we call her?” Harley questioned looking over at him. 

“More your pet than mine, whaddya think?” He questioned absently with a shrug. Harley’s eyes shifted to the side before returning to you.

“Ava.” She stated simply. 

“Ava?” he questioned.

“It’s old English, means the breath of life.” she nodded. 

“Aren’t you clever.” He muttered. 

Warcraft-influenced Asks collection -1

A rather specific list of questions~


  1. Are they partial to other races or are they xenophobic?
  2. Are there any triggers that make them cry, tear up?
  3. What is their favorite weapon, if any?
  4. What is their favorite Spell?
  5. What do they consider themselves concerning their skills/career? (Classic class or special snowflake?)
  6. Do they think they have mastered their chosen career/trade skills? Have they truly?
  7. Are they more comfortable in armor or in casual clothes?
  8. What is their ‘go to’ armor set?
  9. Do they generally stick to a specific color scheme in their wardrobe?
  10. Do they have a favorite book/literary piece?
  11. Do they enjoy music?
  12. What is their favorite meal of the day?
  13. What is their favorite dish/food?
  14. Do they indulge in any vices?
  15. What sort of drunk are they? Happy, angry, sleepy?
  16. What is their favorite Capital?
  17. Favorite city/village?
  18. Favorite Continent?
  19. Favorite zone?
  20. In what era were they at the peak of their glory? (Which expansion)
  21. Is there a race of the opposite faction they harbor especially deep hatred for?
  22. How do they feel about the current politics?
  23. How do they feel about their current faction leader?
  24. How do they feel about the opposite faction leader?
  25. How do they feel about their racial leader?
  26. Are they patriotic?
  27. Describe their morning routine.
  28. Describe their bed time routine.
  29. Do they currently attend any classes, practice, drill or courses?
  30. Do they study on their own time or aren’t proactive about gaining knowledge?

Listening to Elliott Smith properly for the first time in a while and maaaan, I love him and I also I know now why I can’t ever remember anything in life, it’s because all my brain memory space is taken up by the lyrics of probably 95% of Elliotts discography.

thestuckinbed  asked:

Hi! My birthday is on 28th of March and I would really love a non-reaped!Everlark story (or one where the Reaping doesn't exist, whichever comes easier). You can sprinkle in some smut if you want (though it's not necessary). Thank you!!!!!

Originally posted by a-night-in-wonderland

Happy, happy birthday!!! Your story was submitted by the awesome @pagedancer87 and we know you’ll love it just as much as we do! Have a wonderful day! EBD


Title: Selfish

Summary: “It’s really okay for there to be times when you stop putting everyone else first, and just do what’s best for you.”

A/N: All errors are belonging to me. Happy Birthday!

(%)(%)(%)

As a rule, Katniss Everdeen didn’t allow herself many things.

The first and last time she had asked for something, was the one thing she had ever regretted: to selfishly have her father with her on her birthday. It was a request shyly made, and gently denied, but he had wanted to surprise her. It had him going to work on a day he normally had off, which ended up being the day that he died. At eleven, watching her mother spiral into grief driven madness and her younger sister nearly starve to death, she blamed herself. From then on vowed to put her family first.

It became the way she lived. Everything she did and every choice she made was for the benefit of her younger sister. Not only did it make her happy, it was also very easy.

Once in awhile, something came up that made her choices not so black and white.

Keep reading

Getting your meat properly sucked is really something every nigga should experience. My dick touched the back of a throat for the first time few weeks ago and I dead had to take her up off my thang . It was so sudden smh a wave of emotions and sensations ran through my body. Knees gave out on me shit was wild. That throating shit nothing to be played with I really see why these rappers cant leave superhead alone . Thats a talent . You should be able to put that on your taxes and resume . Its a skill,trade and lifestyle.

Ephraim!Lucina

I have way too much time on my hands, so I decided to figure out what an Ephraim!Lucina would look like stats-wise in Awakening.

I am by no means a math person so please correct me if I’m wrong. I rounded all numbers down.

Modifiers
+6 Str
+4 Skl
+1 Spd
+2 Lck
-3 Res

Growth Rates
(Without factoring in class)
HP 43%
Str 43%
Mag 20%
Skl 41%
Spd 38%
Lck 68%
Def 31%
Res 18%

Base Stats as a Lvl. 10 Lord
(With Chrom as a Lvl. 20 Great Lord and Ephraim with max stats)
45 HP
24 Str
15 Mag
19 Skl
20 Spd
22 Lck
24 Def
19 Res

Lucina basically becomes more of a phys tank. She trades away some skill, speed, and luck to have more attack and defense. She also really isn’t equipped to be a mage and is now more susceptible to magic.

On the bright side, Great Lord allows access to both swords and lances, meaning she can equip both the Parallel!Falchion and Siegmund.