#and currently dreaming of the days where

[blogger360ncislarules]

Picturing any website at any moment posting brand new, never before seen footage of Hetty from literally any past episode of NCIS LA, and the awesome reactions that will come from it....

[lizard-dumbass]

so The World Of Mr Plant is actually rly cool

Image ID: a digital illustration of Mr Plant from the web series The World Of Mr Plant. He is sitting on a white bed and is looking at the "camera". Behind him is an open doorway cloaked in pitch black darkness. The room is dimly lit and the lighting has a distinctly purpley blue color to it.

[iknowwhereyousleepatnight]

i hate doing laundry ough it's The Worst

[ichigosoju]

🍪🥛

[sho-haizono]

YAYYY MISHA THEME!!!

MISHA 💖💓🩷❤️💕💖💓🩷💖❤️💖💓💓💖🩷💓

[cvakviigmohns]

"Monza is for the underdogs, for the unprecedented feats of overcoming unbeatable odds, for the dark horses who teach the value of perseverance and an indomitable spirit that will prevail"

In the meantime, list of monza winners from the past decade:

[apatheticlexicographer]

MOTHERFUCK i did not realize how much those antidepressants made me feel physically psychologically and dare i say spiritually like a peat mummy

literally 2 days off them and i've experienced more joy, lucidity, motivation and general good vibes than i did in the whole 2 months i was on them 😭😭

[transfemlogan]

i think the main issue w/ writing a sanders sides video essay is How The Fuck would u even. organise that. theres SO MUCH 2 talk about

[eleanorfenyxwrites]

WIP Wednesday

So okay I don't know if this is like...a cool thing to do or not, but there's a fic I claimed from the 2022 kink meme list (I couldn't resist, in large part because Tales From Jianghu Shopping Center was listed by the prompter as one of their inspirations for the prompt) that I'm not sure when I'll actually finish writing but I have started it and I'd like to at least acknowledge that I'm doing it even if the prompter won't see this. But the prompt is something along the lines of anything highly specific and niche (like my strip mall AU lol), and I actually happen to have a growing little stockpile of very very niche knowledge about my chosen professional field, which is ceramics! I specialize in wheel-throwing (though I'm also a...passable hand at plaster mold-making/slip casting and handbuilding, I just don't enjoy them nearly as much) so I've started a little something from Lan Wangji's point of view that's a love letter to throwing ♥

--//--

As is tradition, Lan Wangji works in porcelain.

The Lan family have been respected masters of porcelain for centuries, generations stretching back, back, back nearly to the beginning of the imperial kiln production in Jingdezhen. They once produced the enormous pots that adorned emperors’ palaces – there are (very distant) cousins of his in Jingdezhen who still do so for wealthy patrons.

It’s easy to forget such a background when he enters his personal studio on the other side of the world and flicks on the lights to begin the day’s routines. It’s precisely what he wants – a quiet life like this, simple and unassuming, is much more suited to his desire than the weight of tradition that could otherwise press him and his work down into something he would never want to be.

Not that he deviates very far from tradition anyway, but it’s the principle of the thing. Lan Wangji takes quiet pleasure in simplicity, in function that is beautiful in its hard-won mastery. There are very few non-traditional ways to accomplish this that he’s interested in, but he likes having the option should he want to take it. 

Lan Wangji had learned to throw at his uncle’s knee as soon as it was possible to do so. He has continued to do so since childhood with a single-mindedness that once surprised even his uncle. All he’d ever wanted to do was to sit at the wheel for hours and hours on end, only pausing to warm the water in his bowl with a fresh influx from the kettle and to transfer full wareboards (once he was strong enough) to the drying racks in the corner of his uncle’s studio.

Lan Wangji has always struggled to find the words to convey how integral the motion of the wheel and the smooth slip of clay through his finger and against his palms is to feeling like he fits into his skin properly, but his family seems to understand just the same.

Yesterday, as the sun was westering, Lan Wangji had weighed up a few bags of fresh porcelain. The lumps are waiting for him now, tumbled together under their protective sheets of plastic, ready to be molded and shaped by hands and hypnotic motion. There’s enough of a chill in the studio this time of year that there isn’t any condensation on the plastic when he lifts it, so he folds it away neatly and settles into the easy rhythm of wedging his clay to prepare it for the wheel.

There is, in the middle of the studio, a sturdy butcher’s block workbench. He built it himself right there in the studio, the first piece of furniture that had filled the space even before he’d purchased his Shimpo wheel. It’s very likely too heavy to lift – it’s certainly too big to ever get through the door – but he has no intention of ever leaving this studio to begin another, so it suits his purposes just fine.

Wedging the clay on this sturdy, hip-height table is nearly as meditative a process as all the rest of it. A bit more of a workout than sitting at the wheel, but it’s a good way to warm up in the morning, his muscles well accustomed to the push-turn-push-turn-push-turn of spiral wedging that it’s gone beyond second nature, it simply is. His mind wanders pleasantly as he watches the misshapen lumps of pure porcelain become smooth and rounded beneath his palms. Perhaps he’ll spend the day on bowls. They’re quick and simple, suited to his mood today, and he’ll have plenty of them done by lunch when he already knows his typical solitary routine will be interrupted (and can therefore plan for it so far in advance). 

The sun is up properly by the time Lan Wangji finishes his wedging, and once he’s transferred the first batch of prepared clay to the wheel he pauses to stand in the open doorway and look out over the garden that sits between his studio and his home. The grass and the flowers are glittering fresh and dewy in the sunlight as he rolls his shoulders, stretches out his back in preparation to be seated for long hours.

When he returns, the wheel welcomes him, familiar and comforting. He fills an old bird seed bucket with warm water from the tap and arranges the small mirror at the back of the wheel’s tray to the perfect angle to watch his own hands before he settles in and takes a deep breath, sleeves rolled up and apron cinched comfortably tight around his waist as an unnecessary reminder to keep his back as straight as he can while he works.

The first ball of porcelain hits the perfect bullseye of the wheelhead and Lan Wangji leans in to begin centering, the porcelain buttery soft where it runs under his hands. Porcelain, he knows, is notorious for being difficult to work with, particularly for beginners. This far into his career, it’s simply polite and responsive to each confident press of his palms. He cones it first, hands curled around it to coax it in and up; presses it down again with the flat of his hand, every movement focused on the centerpoint of the wheel gliding silently through magnet-powered rotations. 

Up. 

Down again. 

Up.

Down.

Push.

Press.

Lan Wangji loves every part of the throwing process for what it is, but if he were to have to choose only one, this would be his favorite: the moment he can feel the clay running smoothly, perfectly centered the whole way through and ready to become whatever he will tell it to be, the possibilities – for this moment – endless.

[chaotictomtom]

idk how many more days w/o a response i can take.

[curiosity-killed]

Somehow despite preparing 0% before today for my trip I leave on today I am fully ready an hour before I need to go

[hopeheartfilia]

i dont know if ill survive getting to the end of mo paths are bound.. im almost halfway and i have no clue where ill go when there isnt a next chapther

[siinlight]

I'm so tired of my job I wish I could kill myself in front of everyone and come back... I just want them to know how close to the end of my fucking rope I am I hate it there so much.

[mizumonohomo]

ok fiiiiine i'll say it. i was mad that Last Night in Soho wasn't toxic yuri. you got me.

[thethingything]

apparently last night we had a trauma nightmare where I woke up straight into a panic attack, followed by a dream featuring some weird psychological horror shit, followed by a very mundane dream about going rockpooling with friends where I woke up vaguely disappointed that I wasn't visiting friends.

the thing is, out of all of these, the last one is currently a recurring thing. every so often we'll start having loads of really vivid dreams that are literally just about hanging out with friends in person and being excited to see people face to face

[zincbot]

i've been doing a music exchange with my father and it's been so fun. i've been sending him indie music from the 90s and niche 2000's electronic rock and he's been sending me 60s country folk and like motown stuff

i'm genuinely having the time of my life