#think ouside the box | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ashey-did-owt-wrong · 1 year

Note

the ahse sleepign psoition make me thinking. so in this post by createor Just a random question, sorry if that sounds silly、、、 | Peing -Question Box- ahshe is secojnd least tolerant to extreme tempteratures (sirus is #1 least) so is pretty easy to cold and hot the ahse. so i think would at least litle cold. so, no blanket is probably weird.

in wilardo scenario, an ahse eeping bag.

awww litle cozy eeping! ashe have a blankie there. difference is: here ashe is sleeping with someone else in the room and maybe it's like the little kid thing where you hide under blankets because afraid of monsters...but the ahse not thinking, "whhaht if someone come insdie???" when no blanket in his own room?

in bonsu stage ashe give claire his blanket as distractation. explanation why ashe not have it, because gived calire! but why not give back? keep it whole route? does ashe give it every time? just doesn't like it? is only ashe room too hot, but sirius room is fine? most importantlty...why ashe chose blue eepy bag and not green? just kidding it's least importance.

I thank you for my first ask! Ill go over practical reasons before psychological because its easier for me

I think its interesting considering their individual rooms temperatures. Noel has one large window, Ashey one small window and everyone else lacks one. However, the air ouside could be freezing as we're flying through the air, or warm because of some magical aura. There's nowt of a way of telling. Makes me wonder about central heating, and as Sirius would be in charge, hed have it be perfect for him without bothering for anyone else. Not that hes uncaring, but he's the only to have been in this mansion for a decade.

(apologies for the naff picture)

In siriuss room, he is properly tucked in and anyone knows it gets right toasty in a sleeping bag. Methinks it could be quite cold in siriuss room, so sirius ends up warming everywhere up - including the spare rooms. By this, ashey and everyone elses rooms are warm, but siriuss is a bit cold. Everyone has their own preferred ambient temperatures too.

||||||||||| Psychological reasons now, done with practical ||||||||||

I don't believe he knows of siriuss spare keys, so he likely feels safe in his own room - he knows that he's the threat (even though he doesnt really mean to do anything bad ever). He believes he is the only one with access to everywhere else, with his lockpicks. I may be wrong, but i believe that in one of the earlier routes he is surprised to see sirius with his backup keys, going into a room trying to find noel? I may be wrong.

When he goes to siriuss room, in his sleeping bag, he is likely suspicious of him (he doesnt naturally trust anyone for owt, shown with his eating habits). He is rather childlike, mentally, as shown nearing the end of siriuss conclusion, therefore methinks he would show his feelings so.

On giving the blanket, i believe its of his guise of kindness, but shows how he almost breaks down under the stress and completely fails to remember to ask for it back. I think he, in previous loops, has given it away often to prove his kindness

Ont blue sleeping bag, maybe its his childishness and how he wants to hide when he feels exposed; choosing it the same colour as his hair in some hope of blending in.

I hope ive answered all the questions to me best ability, let me know if ive missed owt or amde any mistakes. Thanks for the ask, @guy0509

#witchs heart #ashe bradley #ashey #me first ask hope its not too bad

12 notes · View notes

zandra-lang-cave · 9 months

Text

Welcome to Wednesday/Thursdays of random thoughts.

Also, know as my tired overnight brain gets to weird places.

Today's thoughts are. things that give me and other people gender/body euphoria.

It's relatively easy to know when something doesn't feel right in your body or the way we express ourselves, aka dysphoria. But sometimes people get gender/body euphoria, basically the opposite of dysphoria, it's hard to explain but for me there are certain things I wear, say or do to express myself that just feels right.

To give some context and avoid misunderstanding, Im not trans but I use they/she pronouns, I don't consider my self any were ouside of the gender binary (though peole might disagree where my placement should be) i just like being called they every once in a while, mostly online. I'm a lady and use she/her IRL all the time for 2 reasons.

1 I haven't even bother to tell people i like to use they/them, just thhinking in having to explaining it gives me a migraine, it's easier to just use she/her and it doesn't bother me most of the time. And 2 my native language is Spanish and is one of the hardest languages to use any sort of neutral pronouns, most words are gendered so there are not many chances in my life for people to call me any sort of neutral term, again it doesn't bother me most of the time.

With that explain there are certain things I do/wear/say that gives me gender/body euphoria, most are just sutil stuff but they fill me with such joy that no one but me can understand completely.

My family nicknames are "pumpking" and "chele," and they both give me euphoria.

Pumpkin is an inside family joke base on the fact I don't like anything Pumpkin flavor, mostly my sisters and nices/nephews use this, and I love it when they call me that instead of my name or any other gender word like aunt or sister. Can I explain why? Not really. I just think it fills me with more joy than it's probably normal.

"Chele" Is a word we use in my home country to call white skin people since they are relatively rare. This one is use mostly by my parents and I can actually explain why it gives me euphoria, it's one of the few terms in my native language that is gender neutral and it feels great when they use it, it feels gender validating without being cultural exclusive. That is something I can feel rarely since I am basically still in the closet gender identity wise.

I preferred "Masculine" clothes/colors/activities to the point one of my sisters asked me if I wanted to be a boy. The answer is a very hard NO. I like being a lady, and the idea of being a man just doesn't feel right to me.

But I tend to like more "masculine" clothes like pants, shorts and long t-shirts, the few "feminine" clothes I wear are either "masculine" colors or neutral colors (that my sisters insist are still masculine). One vivid memory I have is of my sister asking why I want a blue pencil case instead of the pink one, I say I just like blue better but she say it was a boy color so she bought the pink one. I didn't Really care about the color, I just didn't wanted to look at an eye-bleeding shiny pink all day, I would have like it if it was a soft pink instead of a neon one.

I love boxing as an exercise (Don't care for it has a sport), and everyone thinks it is way too masculine, but for me, it makes me feel like a powerful queen. Don't know why, but it just feels validating. Even if everyone else thinks it is just for boys, I rarely feel more women than when I'm exercise boxing.

And last and definitely the weirdest one, I like wearing masks.

My coworkers always ask why i wear them even after they stop being required. I just said it is because I don't want to have to smile to people, half true, but in reality, it just gives me gender euphoria I can't understand. I have even considered wearing them at home, but I do not want to hear all my family's questions. If I do so, that's gonna stay in my head. But if im grocery shopping or at the mall, i will 100% wear a mask.

The best way i can explain it its, I just feel like myself when I wear a mask. It's not like I dislike how i look without them, but something just clicks in my mind, and I just go "this it's right."

That concluded my thoughts on things that give me gender/body euphoria. I don't usually think this hard about my gender identity, i tend to just say "im a woman but i use she/her pronouns", despite the fact I'm aware the answer is more complex than that.

I feel most people focus on the things that make them feel dysphoria rather than what can make them more in tune with the way they feel. especially people like me who don't really have a word that describes what we are. We just feel what we feel and try our best to explain it to everyone else.

I wanna know what other things people find that give them euphoria.

Reblog or comment something that makes you feel like you that you can't explain.

#lgbtqia #lgbtq community #lgbtq #pronouns #gender #gender dysphoria #gender euphoria #gender identity #complex gender #thoughts #thoughts on gender #out of the binary #and if it wasn't obvious #we dont tolerate discrimination in this blog #this is a safe space #for everyone #even if you dont know who you are #here is safe

2 notes · View notes

greenlodgecypher · 7 months

Text

Crying Diamonds, 6/6

"One of them made a bad turn.

There's a long hallways on the first floor, with several doorways that close across it; I'd unlocked enough to move around, but hadn't bothered with others. He meant to run right out the front, I think. Well, he got as far as a locked pair of double doors, and I closed the other end of the hallway right on him. None of the doors he could get to would open for him." I grinned, then. Eliot looked a bit shocked. "I locked him in there and then took another way outside. "They had a car parked halfway down the driveway; if the situation had been any less serious, I'd have laughed at how fast they ran. They, yes; the one who got out had picked up another friend by then, too. One of them threw down a rock as they left. They got away, of course." I sipped at my wineglass. "I'm not a runner. I don't know what they expected; they might have thought I had a gun." "After that, then, it was a matter of calling the police and investigating the grounds while I still could. They'd gotten into the basement through one of those angled, flat cellar doors outside. They broke the lock. It was here that they'd found the breaker boxes; that explained the power outage. I thought the basement door in the kitchen was locked; but it turned out that it was only latched, and that from the basement side. They'd been able to open it after all. From there, they'd gotten into the rest of the house. In retrospect, I'd heard them moving around that morning, I think." I sighed. "I need to learn to pay more attention. "I don't know how long they'd been in the house; they'd left the basement door open, but I think one of them had done that on his rapid departure. Snow hadn't accumulated on the steps. It'd have been a beastly cold night to spend ouside, though, for all the sneaking around and whistling they did." "Whistling?" Sayers said. "Ah, yes." I pulled the thing out and held it out to her. The potato-sized ceramic skull was suitably unexpected, and she shivered a bit in surprise. "This is what I'd initially mistaken for a rock. It's a whistle! The originals were excavated at a temple in Mexico City, and there's various uses theorized for them, but no one really knows their proper use. This one is modern, of course. I can't comment on the level of taste in its sculpture; the originals have a specific style of skull design, and this one was made larger and far more theatrical-looking." I passed it around, and when it came back to me, held it up to my lips. "But the sculptor understood their craft when it came to its use as an instrument. Just listen." The resulting scream—for it really did sound like a scream—filled the room. I kept it brief.

"You can see, then, how effective they are if your listener is unprepared. The miscreant I stuck in the hallway had a bagpipe bladder to power his! Supernatural screams, indeed. Little did they know that I have instruments to confirm that sort of thing." "It's hard to prove a negative," Sawyer commented. "Yes, and I wore out their patience before I came to a conclusion, I think," I said. "But at any rate, they tipped their hand too soon. After the officers arrived, it was out of my hands. The trapped burglar was arrested; with his cooperation, it was easy for them to track down his friends, and very soon it was all out to air. I was lucky I'd nabbed one; I don't think the police would ever have found them otherwise." "Surely they'd have looked," Sayers said. I raised my eyebrows at her, and continued. "Wouldn't you know it! My fake banshees were friends of our young nephew here. A few more of those whistles were in his apartment. His escaped friends had gone straight there to catch him up on the news. "They'd been the ones to cause the howling at Mother's business, of course. They'd taken some time to track me down, which is why I had kept the necklace for a few days without incident; but they'd staked out the area and one of them saw me when I was getting groceries. From there, they set about their banshee business at the manor. I shrugged. "The nephew pretended to be outraged, but the evidence was against him. His friends insisted that he'd been involved. In the end, he came clean; he'd concocted the entire story, and his uncle had bought it wholesale. He'd had his uncle 'haunted' before us, you see. The nephew's been charged with all sorts of things. Conspiracy, fraud, I don't know all the details. "His uncle, G, was outraged. At first he didn't want to believe it; but when it was made clear that he'd been had, and he'd given up the necklace for next to nothing, he was livid. It was a scandal, after all, and he'd been taken for a fool. "He even tried to accuse my mother of being part of it somehow. Of devaluing the necklace; telling him the jewels were pastes, or something, just to have someone else to blame. I suppose he bends the truth as much as his nephew liked to. Fortunately Mother keeps good records; it didn't fly, and she was able to square things away to his satisfaction. Mr. G got his jewels back; Mother got her sale price returned to her; that was all fine in the end. "And that's that," I said. “Why go to all the trouble?” Eliot said, clearly amused. “Wasn't the nephew the heir to begin with?" “Fraud, of course,” I said. “The nephew wanted the money now; and possibly to avoid estate taxes. The necklace was not as it was presented to Mother: without box or documentation. In fact, the nephew had those in his possession the entire time. The necklace, safely abandoned by Mr. G, was to be snapped up by a buyer from your mother, at whatever reduced price it could command. I believe one of the banshee-men would have played the part of buyer. Once the necklace was reunited with its box and papers, the conspirators would have been in apparently legitimate possession of a valuable piece, to be auctioned off. The proceeds would be split between them. The net return would have been considerable. “Or, at any rate, such was their plan; the trials are still underway. The nephew's been disinherited, of course.” “It’s a pity your mother didn’t get to keep the diamonds,” Sayers said. I shrugged. “I suppose. They really were hideous.”

#the green lodge cypher #tglc oct 97

0 notes

lily-orchard-gossip-blog · 2 years

Note

I kinda wish it'd be more to be angry... I feel as tho a lot of people (me included) don't really allow ourselves to feel anger, and once we're in a sotuation where we can'tvreress ot anymore, we have no idea how to handle the emotion. We either express it to agressively, or repress it even more. Enter people like Lily, who offer a space to be angry, and give you a sense of validation for it. Instant validation that is, but in the end, it's just promoting self-destructive ways too.

Anger is definitly a stigmatized emotion.

I think theres this tendency in society to place anger in a very tiny box. Like, there are only a select amount of times where it's alright to be angry, and if you dare to express it ouside of those accepted times, then theres something wrong with you.

But anger is an important emotion. It let's you know when your being treated poorly, it can fuel someone to keep moving, it let's you recognize that things are unfair.

Any emotion can be toxic when left unchecked, but I definitly think that as a society, we place to much value on the "proper" way to deal with things.

Society looks down on the angry. And your right, people like Lily pray on that desire to be seen, heard. To have that anger feel justified, but then they lead people to burning up in that very anger.

I'm not sure Society is getting there, but I think being allowed to be angry, to discuss that anger, and to process it, will benefit everyone in the long run then if we just keep it bottled up inside.

8 notes · View notes

iamwestiec · 3 years

Text

June 25: t4t Chengqing! 💜❤🏳️‍⚧️

handwaved lots-of-people live AU, canon-era, trans woman Wen Qing, trans man Jiang Cheng, porn with feels

A/N: In this AU, we're assuming cultivation techniques exist with similar effect to hormone blockers and HRT. Wen Qing has breasts and a penis, referred to by the narration in non-specific terms. Jiang Cheng's bits aren't described, though Wen Qing makes reference to his cock. Explicit bits under the cut!

Read on ao3

They're in her favorite place in Lotus Pier, the private pavillion in the little cove behind the sect leader's rooms, when he asks.

It's a sultry summer evening, fireflies dancing beneath the softly swaying branches of the willow trees on the shore and a gentle mist rising above the lotuses, their blooms furled and guarded like precious secrets in the twilight. It's nothing like the home she grew up in, but it's the place in her new home she feels most free. Jiang-furen and Wen-daifu are left behind, put away with embroidered outer robes of vivid purple and scarlet or nestled on soft fabric in a lacquered box next to a crown that could be both lotus and flame and a comb that represents a bold promise fulfilled.

Here, she need only be Wen Qing, and her companion need only be Jiang Cheng, her lover, her husband, her friend.

His head is in her lap, and she's combing her fingers lazily through his unbound hair. The fine hairs behind his ear have curled from the humidity in the air, perfect little spirals that she twirls around the tip of her finger. He hums a low, satisfied rumble against her thighs. "Wen Qing, could I—" he starts, a blush spreading across his nose and those perfect cheekbones.

Ah, she thinks, one of those evenings. She digs her fingers a little more firmly into his hair, scratching at his scalp and tugging with the kind of tension she knows grounds him.

"Ask for what you want, A-Cheng," she instructs.

Intimacy between them has been... interesting to figure out. Neither of them had much space to become practiced at tenderness, and both of them have known their own bodies first as raw material to be shaped, cultivated into the right tool, the right weapon, something with which to do what needed to be done with a little friction as possible. Learning pleasure as husband and wife has been a negotiation, a dance, and—somewhat to both their surprise—a delight.

"I'd like to make you feel good," he says, still adorably red in the face but undeterred. "To undress my wife and properly appreciate her beauty."

He's quiet as she considers, closing his eyes and giving her the space to feel out where she is in her mind and body today, if she's up for this kind of attention. It's a lot, the fervency of her husband's admiration. A shiver races down her spine, and he smirks just a little, no doubt interpreting it as anticipation.

Correctly, as it turns out.

"You may," she tells him, and his smirk blooms into a dazzling smile. She tugs sharply on his hair again, and he bites his lower lip to school his expression into something less giddy. She relaxes her grip, and he sits up, pulling his hair back into a single low braid with brisk, efficient movements of his hands. She loves his hands, strong and scarred and so different from her own, and he blushes again when he notices her watching.

He inclines his head towards their rooms. "Is my lady ready to accompany me inside?"

She asjusts her seat on the cushions and tosses out a quick talisman, mentally offering a wry thanks to her brother-in-law for inventing a silencing charm that doesn't require an enclosed space to set. Jiang Cheng’s eyes go wide and dark, and she grins. "It's such a lovely night though."

He glances around quickly, as though reminding himself they can't be seen, then gives her far too low a bow. "As my lady says."

It's always heady, being loved this way. Jiang Cheng moves with such reverence, carefully loosening the ties of her robes and drawing the soft fabric slowly apart. He kisses each bit of skin as its exposed, soft presses of lips against her throat, her shoulder, down her arm. He takes her hand and turns the palm up, kissing along the sensitive skin from the inside of her elbow down to her wrist, nipping at the meat of her thumb when he reaches her palm. She twists her wrist to trace over plush lips, and his mouth is hot and wet when he draws her fingers between them, tongue tracing patterns on the pads of her fingers. The sight and sensation is more erotic than it has any right to be, and a little shudder passes through her. He pulls off with a quiet pop and moves back up her arm, kissing across her collarbones and repeating the whole procedure as he slides her robes off her other arm. He's beautifully obscene, sucking on her fingers with his eyes closed in bliss, and she watches him for awhile, letting the heat build in her belly and between her legs. He'd stay there as long as she let him, though, so eventually she curls her fingers to dig her nails into his eager tongue, and he releases her with a chuckle and a kiss to her fingertips. "Apologies," he says, sounding not sorry in the slightest.

He snakes his arms around her and runs strong hands down either side of her spine. She arches back into him with a little sigh of pleasure as his fingers find the spots where he's learned she carries tension. "Massage?" he offers, but she shakes her head.

"Not tonight." She loves it when he presses her down and works out all the knots and kinks in her back, but she has better use for his hands right now. She leans back further, and he takes the hint, lowering her onto the cushion and swinging a leg over to kneel astride her thighs. He leans in to place a kiss on her brow, and she closes her eyes so he can drop more kisses on each closed lid, the tip of her nose, scattered across her cheekbones, on her earlobes and the hinge of her jaw, back and forth until she growls and bites at his lips when they press featherlight to the corner of his mouth. She swallows his laughter as he opens for her, letting her bleed off some of the fire he's stoked in her veins in hungry, passionate kisses. Her hands are in his hair again, and she knows his neat braid will be crooked and messy when she lets him up. Good.

After a while, she relents, and he pulls back with laughter dancing in his eyes, the way he always gets when he riles her up enough for her to let her control slip. She pretends she isn't half-breathless and nods imperiously for him to continue. He's smirking again as he moves down her chest, but she decides to allow it, for what's coming next.

Wen Qing is not a vain woman, merely one fully aware of her impressive accomplishments. Her breasts, in her opinion, are one such accomplishment. Her family's work in medical cultivation includes several treatises on people like her and Jiang Cheng, who know themselves to be something other than what the bodies they were born with suggested, and she had worked diligently as a child to grow her golden core fast enough that she might take advantage of that knowledge from an early age.

Jiang Cheng runs his hands up her sides and cups her breasts, pushing them together and kneading them gently. His hands are the perfect size to span their fullness, and she loves the way it feels when he plays with them. He brushes his fingers over her sensitive nipples, pinching and teasing as they stiffen up further under his ministrations. Her breath stutters when he looks up at her through his lashes and bends to take one in his mouth. He rolls it back and forth under his tongue, nibbling gently at first and then less gently as she arches her back and presses her chest up into his face. He sucks, hard, pulling back until her breast hangs stretched like a drop of water from his lips, and at the same time he pinches her other nipple. He releases her from his mouth and follows the tender flesh back down, nipping and kissing his way over across her chest to give the other side the same treatment.

It's gorgeous and intense and for a while Wen Qing thinks they'll just stay like this, grinding against each other while Jiang Cheng worships at her breasts. She wouldn't mind. It's blissful, nearly euphoric, the way he suckles and licks and teases them, but when she bucks her hips up, he chuckles and pulls back.

"Apologies again," he says, "this husband was distracted by his wife's perfect breasts." The fact that he so clearly means it is almost—almost—enough not to earn him a glare. The breeze through the pavilion is cool against her wet nipples, and she wants to shove his face back to her chest.

Then he slides further down and bites at her hipbone, and the noise she makes is somewhere between a moan and a yelp. He plays his fingers across the waistband of her inner skirt. "May I continue?" he asks.

"I was promised undressing and appreciation," she says, with as much cool haughtiness as she can muster while she feels like she's burning up from the inside. "And you know I can't abide leaving a task half done."

He laughs at that and sits up to pull the skirt away. He runs his hands down the ouside of her legs to her feet, digging his thumbs into the edge of her arches firm enough to make her hiss. She can feel the thunderstorm charge of his qi flowing through her meridians and stoking the fire in her belly.

"I should never have explained acupressure points to you," she teases. "That's cheating."

"Your meridians are beautiful too," Jiang Cheng insists, unrepentant. "I mean, I assume. You'd know better than me." She laughs and hooks her heels around his waist, tugging him back down towards her. "I was going to kiss up and down your calves and praise the beauty of your feet," he grumbles.

"I'll consider them duly praised," she declares. "I'd rather have your mouth a little higher."

He grins again, and lowers his lips, now flushed from his earlier efforts, to the inside of her thigh. "Like here?" he murmurs, and she sighs something like a yes as he begins to trace swirling patterns over her skin with his lips and tongue. He teases back and forth, a little higher each time, sending waves of pleasure up her spine. She lets her eyes fall closed as he reaches the apex of her thighs.

"You're gorgeous," he says, cupping her sex and pressing down with his whole palm, the way he knows she likes. Years of training her qi to shape her body mean that she doesn't get hard without intentional effort to direct her blood and energy to that organ. She usually prefers not to, because she loves the way this feels. Firm, deep pressure against all the most sensitive parts of her. Jiang Cheng’s mouth is hot and wet as he licks and kisses between her legs. She moans and presses up into his face, chasing that slick heat and pressure that feels so good. He takes the very tip of her into his mouth, sucking and teasing it like he had her nipples, and she shudders at the burst of intense sensation.

She's close, she realizes, built up slowly from his thorough teasing of her body. She thumbs at her nipples as she pants out, "Can you— A-Cheng, please, I want—" and he grinds the heel of his palm over her hui yin point. He's cheating again, she distantly notes, sending a burst of his own energy into her body, but she feels too good to tease him for it. The charge of his qi—like lightning, like zidian, like nothing else in the world—twines with the fire of her own energy and races through her, a bright burst like sparks up her spine over the lower, slow waves of pleasure rolling through her body. It's gorgeous, and every time she lets Jiang Cheng pleasure her like this, she's overwhelmed by the sheer decadent bliss of it.

When she opens her eyes, he's already staring up at her, resting his head on her hip and smiling that soft, awed little smile he gets sometimes when he's not thinking about what his face is doing. "Come up here," she says, no command left in her voice at all, but he comes and curls around her, kissing her gently, still with that same reverence. "That always feels so decadent," she admits, lingering wisps of pleasant sensations still humming gently through her body. "Give me a second, and I'll be happy to return the favor?"

"Not tonight," he says. Sometimes it's easier for him to focus on her. When she glances out the corner of her eye, though, she sees a blush creeping across his cheeks again. "Besides, I, uh, kinda..."

"Ground your cock into the cushion while you were using your mouth on me?"

Now he flushes fully scarlet. "Yes. That," he chokes out. Wen Qing kisses his flaming cheek. "It's just so much more sensitive now!"

Perks of marrying a Dafan Wen, she thinks smugly. Perks of the war being over, too—she'll be able to teach such techniques much more widely.

"Good," she says aloud. "I like when you enjoy yourself, husband."

"I like to enjoy you," he shoots back.

"And you do it so very well," she agrees. His smile is pleased now, and she kisses it off his lips, feeling perfectly, wonderfully herself in the heart of Lotus Pier. 💜❤

#PrideMonthSnippets Masterpost!

#PrideMonthSnippets #the untamed #wen qing #jiang cheng #chengqing #trans pride #trans headcanons #t4t chengqing #sexy times #oh golly this one is not a snippet #westie writes

29 notes · View notes

pepperstrawberry · 4 years

Text

So, all the Secret Lair stuffs have been revealed.

Setting aside some mixed feelings about forsaken and the ... ‘apologize’ (both wizard’s and mark’s clarification, thus the ‘mixed’), I’m... not as excited, but not completely ready to flip a table or ignore Lair...

It does set a new president. It’s kinda a mixed mess.

Online and not in LGS is a bad thing But print on demand is a good thing Each is 30-40 bucks But each is only a handful of cards There is a first drop for 200 to get all But you if you only want 2 or 3 it might not feel worth it BUT But, if you want 4 or 5, you might as well plunk down the 200 and maybe trade the ones you don’t want? The boxes look interesting and -might- make for dece deckboxes... maybe? that seems to be implied, but there doesn’t seem to be any sort of closing mechanism. Makes me unsure about sticking a commander deck in there. ouside of that, the box feels... a bit much for so few cards.

My thoughts are all over the place on this one. I did organize some short snippet thoughts on my twitter if you wanna check that out.

I am not really sure, in the end how to feel about this. I think I would feel better IF there were also more goodies being sent to LGS. But the lacking support of our game shops is becoming more and more glaring...

#mtg secret lair #mtg thoughts #pepper rambles

5 notes · View notes

sketch-ideas-unused · 4 years

Text

I know people see FNaF as a cringy game but can i share a nightmare i had when i first saw the game?

Surprisingly something close to it has appeared in the DLC curse of dread bear... You were stuck in a huge (i think it was victorian) mansion with the Animatronics roaming around. The first from has the core 4 around. Bonnie in a right wing study area, Chica in the left with kitchen area, foxy roaming the entire area fast and freddy at the entrance. The goal the first night? Get the the staircase without any of the finding you by hiding behind cardboard moving boxes and furniture. On the stairs you encounter golden freddy standing up and talking. He say'd "why are you here child, to find a home? Perhaps you will soon." As the games continued so did my nightmares. When the 2nd game was realesed i woke up in the second floor hallway where in one room the marionette box was unwinding and between all the rooms was an intact mangle. To avoid mamgle you had to freeze until they left, listening to their screams. In one closet... There was something slowly opening the door, to stop it you hand to close the door fast but it called mangle to you.

The dreams ended with a final rush on the first floor to leave... Where all 5 were on the loose and golden freddy was blocking the door... Leaving game a "cutscence" of you walking do a strech of road in the rain to a car... Turning around you see all of them ouside... Watching you and waving. You get in the car and leaving... Only to come home and find golden freddy there. You see your home is secluded, in a neighborhood reserved for the mentally unfit for life... You live off of rations given to you and what little money you have is from charity given to you by the people who put you there... You hang yourself and wake up back at the mansion, welcomed as a new member of the family.

#dream #nightmare #fnaf dream #justsayin #scheduled

3 notes · View notes

visuallanguagetimkirman · 5 years

Photo

I have started my initial research in to the two briefs before I finally commit to the brief I feel will be the most challenging to me personally. The module is designed to help in the development of my use and experimentation of visual language in my artistic practice, specifically in relation to my understanding of drawing. Both of the briefs tick various boxes and make my creative senses tingle and this will probably be a difficult decision when I finally come to make a decision.

Index appeals because I have always been drawn to the nature of language especially semiotics which I have previously studied. I do try, on a conscious level, to use signs and symbols within my works and this will be quite an enjoyable and informative brief to research and think about.

Stranger also appeals as several of the suggested research avenues are either favourite texts, film, or imagery that I have had a long held appreciation for.

As such, my initial research has begun with one of my favourite books, The Ousider, by Albert Camus. I am reading this again for the first time in several years but hope to be able to do so with a set of fresh eyes.

My introduction to the book was almost certainly as a result from listening to the song, Killing an Arab, by the Cure which is in itself a condensed version of the books key moments and themes. I seem to recall reading an interview with Robert Smith when I was younger in which he explained the meaning behind the song as it was often incorrectly cited as something controversial or used as such by those wishing to court controversy. I instantly went and found a copy of the book. I instantly loved it. It was also a time when I was building my very own vinyl collection a big part of which was to pour over the album covers and lyrics as much as listening to the songs themselves.

The book, the song and the band have left a long lasting impression upon me and I will write more on this later as I continue my research.

#research #the cure #albert camus #the outsider #stranger

2 notes · View notes

palatinewolfsblog · 1 year

Text

The Age of Relativity...

(for my old Friend Shane a.k.a. @acommonloon ) ...

#art #watercolor #americana #humor #hommage #albert einstein #the age of relativity #our world today #do your own research #dare to think #sapere aude #think about it #think ouside the box

16 notes · View notes

movedyourchair505 · 5 years

Note

What is/are your favourite moments in your chaptered stories? What moments made you really excited to write about? What is your favourite smut or fluffy one shot you have written? What's your favourite moment in elanas HH? Also is the aesthetic of your characters you have a strong idea about before you write them or you just make it up as you go? Hope you don't mind these questions. Love you xx

Oh my god, that’s such a lovely question!! And a big one too, I needed to go through but I’m so excited that you’re wondering about this and care about my stories beyond just reading them! It means a lot to me!!

For Winter Wonderland, I really loved writing them celebrating New Year’s in chapter four, and also their movie date ouside in chapter seven!

In Little Flames, my favourite one to write was them getting ready for the event in chapter five and I was so excited to write their first time in chapter seven, but it was stressful to because I just wanted it to be perfect so it was a struggle!

With Dancing Shoes, I was most excited to write their first meeting and date in chapter seven, but I also really really love chapter six where Alex teaches Flo how to box, I’m quite proud of the smut after that as well!

And then NN, boy, I could go off, there are so many chapters I had planned for ages that I was so excited to write but then ended up having a breakdown over because I didn’t reach my own standards and was really hard on myself, like chapter 22 where Jade stayed at Al’s for the first time, my favourite to write was their first proper date in chapter 26 and I also was looking forward to writing him come back after he was taken (but it also broke my heart) in chapter 47. I could go on and on!

My favourite fluffy one shot is definitely The Ultracheese because that’s the ultimate fluff haha and for smutty, I’d say Temptation, he’s such a hot and rude bitch in that 😅

It’s so sweet that you asked about my favourite HH moment, it’s got to be their first breakfast together in chapter six because it’s so cute and he’s so pretty and they’re just properly starting out and then chapter sixteen where they dance on the roof and he’s such a soft idiot, that one is absolutely iconic.

For the aesthetic, it’s a bit of both, with Chloe I made a lot of it up as I went because she was my first OC I came up with Alex, then for Flora the aesthetic is obviously a very big part and I love describing her and the whole vibe of DS, Kaya helped me a lot in coming up with her and I absolutely love finding outfits for her and describing her aesthetic. As for Jade, I had her as a character already in another story that I ended up not being happy with so I pretty much redid her character but her aesthetic remained the same, then the further I got into the story, I developed it more and more with Elana and then with Poppy we did a lot of planning in advance about her aesthetic and her character but at this point it plays a huge role for all of them and I think it gives a character and a story so much more depth and essence.

Thank you for these questions, I appreciate that so much! Love you endlessly x

3 notes · View notes

zoeuniqueus · 5 years

Text

Reflective Journal Week One

This week i was able to explore and understamd some new and creative skills in the media production. This week i learnt the importance of advertising and persuading the viewer to buy or use the product. As intructed we got puut in pairs to design and new product to advertise and sell. This was important as it enabled me to expand my thinking skills and try to think ouside the box. During this week we i used Photoshop to fix damaged photos with the spot healing brush. This helped me improve my skills on Photoshop and made me feel more confident when working on it. learning these new skills will help me with major projects becuase i would be able to do a range of creative ideas solo or in a group. I am very excited to learn more and expand some of my creative ideas. I feel that i worked well in groups and with others.

#week one

1 note · View note

ill-write-hero-into-my-code · 5 years

Note

A carefully wrapped box arrives upon the Prime's doorstep, decorated with lilac paper and a shimmery violet ribbon. Opening that beautiful package reveals that the entirety of the inside has been filled with raccoons. They're still alive, mind you, but they're probably a bit mad now.

The young Prime is surprised to see the beautifully wrapped gift with his name on it. Though when he opens it to reveal a bunch of unhappy raccoons-

…..Why? who in the name of the allspark thought this was a good idea!?!?

Optimus takes a deep breath to calm himself, though he continues to scream internally. Bringing the package back ouside to release the creatures before walking back into the base. He’s keeping the violet ribbon though. He thinks it looks nice as he ties it around his wrist.

#Crack #poor Optimus #why?? Though???#Unicronnomnomnomnomnomnom

5 notes · View notes

swen1985 · 3 years

Text

The Box

Part I - Knock, knock

Mark stood in front of the door. Number 34 it said, looked like the right

place, it was certainly the right road, it just didn't look like anything

special. Just someone's house on an ordinary road. The only thing he'd

noticed about it was the motorbike parked ouside which he'd seen as soon as

he'd turned the corner at the top of the road and started checking the

house numbers.

He didn't know much about bikes, he didn't even have a license, but he

found them exciting; some bikes just looked hot, and a cute guy in leathers

and a pair of motorcross boots sitting on a machine like this always got

him hard. So he knew this must be the right house, this had to be the guy.

Still standing by the door, he looked at his watch, 2.56pm. He'd said three

o'clock. Mark licked his lips, his mouth felt dry - he was nervous. Should

he knock now, or walk round the block and be spot on time? This guy had

sounded a bit hard on the phone, maybe he'd think early was 'disobedient'

or something. He didn't really go in for the master-slave setup usually, he

was more the bondage-buddy kind of guy, but he was so into the session the

guy had described he was willing to do it this once. Cheekily he'd said

"yes Sir!" at the end of the phone call with a grin to himself; "I mean, it

just sounds stupid to call another guy 'Sir'", he thought to myself.

He didn't want to screw up his chances with this guy so he stepped back

from the door and continued down the road. By this point he now wasn't so

sure he shouldn't just have knocked and gotten on with it, despite his

nervousness his dick was semi-hard as he thought over what they'd talked

about on the phone. Some of what he'd said couldn't be for real, I mean it

was just way too intense - you couldn't tie someone like that. It was more

like he was describing one of those Joe-T drawings you see; horny but just

not possible. Hell, maybe this guy was just jerking off and wasn't going to

be in, or didn't even live there. No, he had to live there, the bike was

parked outside and the he'd said he was a biker. But if what he'd described

was for real, he was in for it big time.

His cock responded to this and started rubbing on his jeans even more which

made things worse still. Jeans, his old army boots, a plain t-shirt and his

favorite jacket - nothing else, no socks, no jock. "Fuck, it's 3pm!" all

that second guesses about whether to knock when he was early and he was now

going to be one minute late.

He arrived at the house, having run the last thirty yards, stood there,

checked the number again and knocked. Looked at his watch again. Just

3.01pm. Knocked again. Looked around behind him across the road, glanced at

his watch again. Back to the door, he saw a buzzer. Pressed that instead.

Behind the mottled glass of the outer door he saw some movement, then it

opened.

Dry mouthed again, he weakly forced out an "Hello". This guy was a good six

or seven inches taller than Mark, and broader shoulders but about the same

age, maybe a year or two older. But it wasn't this physical stature, which

was clearly superior to Mark's, that he took most notice of - it was that

he was wearing the most stunning set of bike leathers he'd ever seen. Only

thing was, they weren't leather at all, they were rubber, but styled like

bike leathers, tailored everywhere out of thick, shining rubber. He was

only a couple of feet away and he could smell it, the heat from the man's

body and the heady smell of the rubber. Mark's cock leapt and he looked

down at it showing through his jeans.

The guy hadn't said anything yet, he was just looked at the boy on his

doorstep. Mark looked up again, almost thinging that this must be the wrong

place, the expression on the man's face was set and he just looked down at

him. "hello.....sir?" Mark said, forcing the words out.

"Better, boy. Inside!"

Mark went in and just stood in the hallway not sure what to do, or what to

say, so he just looked ahead further into the house. The man closed the

door behind him, he jumped and turned around to see the man grinning at

him.

"So, you made it then, boy. But you're late"

"I didn't mean to be....Sir", he said still finding it difficult.

Then he just came at him, grabbed him by the elbows and turned him around

roughly and pushed him against the wall, grabbing his wrists he forced them

up behind his back painfully towards his neck. Mark resisted as best he

could, he hadn't been expecting this but the man was stronger than he

was. Holding him there, his shoulders throbbing from the strain he felt the

man come close to his face.

"You will learn to do as you are told boy, is that clear?"

He wasn't sure what to say, he'd only been a minute late, what was the big

deal?

"I said, is that clear, cunt?", he said whilst yanking the boy's wrists

further up his back.

"Yes Sir", he said as quickly as he could and clenching his eyes against

the pain.

He let go, pushing him to the floor and pinning him there under one knee,

he unclipped a pair of rigid handcuffs from the back of his belt and

snapped them on the boy in a single fluid movement. He let them ratchet on

tightly so they dug into his skin, eliciting another yelp. Hauling him over

onto his back, and crushing his cuffed hands behind him he looked the boy

in the face. He looked startled and a little apprehensive, but that was

good. He reached up and ruffled the boy's hair.

"That has to go!"

He grinned down at him, the boy was more clean cut than he usually got,

still had preppy looking neat cropped hair and his jeans looked

designer. Younger too, no more than 24 and nicely proportioned. He felt his

arms and his thighs, all with the boy watching him puppy-eyed, but

silent. He worked out a little it seemed, which fitted in with the cocky

attitude he'd had on the phone, full of himself, probably a pushy bottom -

well, usually anyway!

"Get up, boy", he barked at him as he himself stood up. Mark struggled back

onto his front then onto his knees and finally, unsteadily onto his

feet. He was looking down still when he noticed his dick was still

hard. Suddenly embarrassed he looked up at the man to see if he'd

noticed. He had.

"That's good boy", he said as he laughed at the boy's innocence, "Ready

then boy?"

Mark just nodded and said "Yes Sir".

He took the boy by the collar of his jacket and pulled him along behind him

through the house and out to the back door. He openned it and started to

walk outside, still dragging the boy. At the step the boy hesitated, unsure

about being led around outside, but he was just pulled along with a sharp

tug, so he followed.

He led him into a brick out-house at the end of the yard, pushed him into

one corner, then turned to lock the door and switch on the lights.

What Mark saw when the room lit up made his jaw drop. Everything the man

had told him on the phone had been real. At the far end of the room, on a

raised platform was a large black wooden box, no more than 3 feet along

each side. It looked like a giant jack-in-the-box with the top hinged open,

thickly padded and lined with rubber.

Several straps, some long, some short, hung from the lid where they were

riveted on and indented into the padding. The outside was very plain except

for the glint from the tops of the bolts that held the sides together,

serious bolts, the wood must have been an inch thick.

He watched the boy take it all in, and stepped over behind him.

"No going back from this point boy."

"No Sir", he said absent mindedly and still looking at the box and around

the room. Chains hung from the ceiling almost everywhere, some had shackles

attached to the ends, another had a massive metal helmet swinging from it,

there was a sling just behind the box, and a stout metal cage on the other

side and closer to the door they'd come in through. Shelves about two foot

above the cage had stacks of rubber sheeting or clothing, he couldn't tell

which, and on the wall next to those every conceivable restraint had its

own hook where it was stored.

Stored!

Stored was the word the man had used to him on the phone a lot, and he'd

latched onto it. Mark had looked around through the contact mags and

website for ages, literally months maybe even a year or more, for someone

into just real, aggressive bondage, and long-term. Most he'd ever gotten

anyone to do to him was overnight, and even then he'd had to plague them

for it. He had almost met another guy a few months back, but he'd been more

interested in causing pain. What Mark wanted was good honest bondage, but

hard, unyielding, escape proof bondage for as long as he could get it. So

when this guy said the word stored, his cock wouldn't let him say no.

At this point the boy turned his head to look at the man who'd roughly

cuffed him just a few moments ago, grinned broadly and said "Storage time

Sir?"

He liked this kid's cockiness, and was pleased to see he'd been right in

thinking he was usually a pushy bottom.

"No boy, lights out time!"

"Sir?", looking suddenly confused only to feel a strong hand grip the back

of his head and another come up to his face and cover it with a rag.

Again in one swift movement, he kicked the boy's feet from under him and

held the rag there until he went out. The boy struggled a bit but only

enough to realise his hands were still trapped and that the cuffs were

cutting into him, a few unaimed kicks and he was out.

0 notes

blueandyellowdiamond · 3 years

Text

PRID ZABIJAT NA VYJEBANU SLOWAKIJU!!! ZASEKNUTA V CHUDOBE!!!

Miss. Antónia Ficová,

Hažín nad Cirochou č. d. 181,

district of Humenné,

Slovak Republic,

European Union, 067 83

[email protected],

+421 918 216 381

To date October 31, 2016

International Court of Justice, Peace Palace, 2517 KJ The Hague The Netherlands

Subject:

Complaint on instruments, method´s and approach of Slovak Government and their representatives since Octobet 2012

First of all, the reasom why I have decided to inform you directly is following: providing false statements on my behalf, restrictions, limitations, barriers, controlling, hiding true facts and data, false fiances, managed bankruptcy, opportunity cost, betrayal, etc.

Secondly, take into your consideration that this open letter, complaint, honest statement should be treated with high level of professionalism and strong ethic´s rules with an appropriate action for my personal improvement since no change has been done.

In sum, I will use level of langugae and style for your better understanding since people are not used to accept me or support me for who I am. In other words, issues like religions, status, male/female, activities, performance, income, social and financial situation, health, after my graduation in July of 2012 should be reported in details for your interest. Due to fact I have experienced a lot of crucial situations because I am selfconfident, self-respect person with higher education and "some of your policy makers" want to marry me? Why now?

Look, I am single, and yes, I am unemployed, but strategy of managed destruction and destroying through corruption of employers, people surrounded about me, gossiping for money in front of me, making pictures and videos and films, telenovelas with my hard experiences and memories, is a such strong cup of tea, don´t you think? In short, some of solid agencies has been informed by me in September of 2015, and after that too many actions has been done by american agents with cooperation with local people since my location in Bratislava, nice hell for me. In other words, everybody made and still makes money on me, and I am poor of poorest because of what? To be another "private bitch" for any married policy maker? Or to be housekeeper for "my biological parents"? Or to be "girl for everything with answer yes" for uni? Yes, there is a such big fraud triangle as another project syndicate but that doesn´ t mean that I should pay for faults of others just for experiments, testing, making research projects, papers, etc. I am not rabbit in the box or that is not reality show. Do you ussualy make fun on poor people or you just used them as free slave? That is a question and answers that has been providing behind my back on my behalf with one goal to either parasit on my results or to put me down beacuse I am better than they and I will always stand for my values and priorities.

So, kindly make sure that EU is only political project without any perspective future for their countries. More to the point, how long have you known about me and you did nothing at all, right? However, I do love write, but since a lot of my work, from research papers till reports, articles has been robbed, I am not gonna to provide you my view and my opinions for free, since you already know that everything required some papers, and you didn´t pay at all. Viewed in this light, I enjoy on the beach because of you. Ridiculous, don´t you think?

Nevertheless, what is your suggestions how should I behave or what should I do in terms of my current geograpical location, only internet access and approximately 60,- at hand? Could you please describe me and explain this? I am not your toy, your key, or your property that you will check and test before buying, you know what I mean? Is easy to only shake hands, sign contract, any summits, etc. and than to watch porn or make masturbation on my photos by people at higher positions with dirty conversations with main goal: to make bitch or homeless beacuse that made a large money on me, and I am still so self confident, now without their chemical weapons.

So, kindly consider that I have, I have right for my own life with solid conditions and multicultural environment and appropriate income and healthy relationships for my personal growth. In sum, I would like to have acces to people that have been trying to meet me, but your "safety and security with one goal: don´t me any perspective contacts" are coming from any senator, or from who? Which direction? So, pay attention to my needs, and don´t try to make fun on suffering innocent people that want to live and have LIFE, you know what I mean? And btw. If you gonna still question my qualities or me, as a person, is better to ask me directly because I know myself very well and only I know what is the best for me. That is so simple.

On the hand, that is old typical scenario, to use one talented person and then to isolate her and make her like military prison or free slave, just for fun. In other words, I (live?) in area of Slovak Republic, east part, and should I consider myself as a slovakian? Which nationality and citizenship should be taken into consideration in this case of my results and success? Well, trade marks and patents gonna be registered in usa, eu? What about ouside of eu? Did you already make final calculations of opportunity costs of this "government arrest" through regional, national authorities with high education and international experiences? Look, there is space for obstructions and huge interest about me since secret actions made me poor. So, kindly make sure that you analyzed my childhood, adults and other stages of life. And, of course that pain and negative feelings has been planned a years of ago. Equality, is not something what is respecting by "slovak mans" due to fact that I have no interest in that way. Yes, I am old school, but with modern aspects, so I have right to choose my long term partner, since I am not kissed or hughed for long time, and I am not for sale, clear?!

So, what is my identity? And what kind of responsible people you gonna contact? Well, think about separation of EU countries from your economic integration since there is no common culture, historical aspects, economical differences, atc. Only to get some poor countries and use them as a slaves, so face it and try to handle this asap. Your psychological bully and tyrany can not continue, clear?

And of course, nobody invited me at your summits (you know I have valuable input) or round tables. Btw. no press is good option? Proportion of responsibility and jurisdiction should be considered as well.

0 notes