#and my sleeping schedule is shite

[lunarbun-ships]

motivation and energy is running on low but i cant afford to put off working on comms arughdhd pray for me yall im struggling so bad

[1roentgen]

.

[dewitty1]

Saturday Six (Stuff)

Idk the last time I did one of these. I think it's been a few weeks, Oops. Stuffs been going on.(。-ω-)ﾉ

We did a little deep cleaning. It's the worst. Especially ovens. Blargh.(;*´Д`)ﾉ

The markets have been what they are. Too peopley. Always asking dumb questions, like if I'm me? Like who else would I be?(๑•॒̀ ູ॒•́๑)

I love how popular my cat Boots is. (=^-ω-^=)

Interesting things from Thursday's market - a girl walking around trying to sell a live chicken, a dude with a shirt showing/saying that all calibers of bullets are faster than 911 (gross), a car alarm that went off for like 20 minutes, someone bringing a cage full of kittens, and the chicken girl finally trading her chicken for a kitten and $6 (this was pretty cute actually).“ψ(｀∇´)ψ

Idk why but my post about Roger Payne has taken off in the past few days. (;¬_¬)

[milly-the-devil]

stay up a few more hours or pass out now?

[bandzboy]

not me staying up to make that set… 😔

[lad-boyo]

.🥲

[disgustingtwitches]

MDNI

141 as your drug dealer boyfriend

Ghost- Let's be real with ourselves, Ghost is not a good man. He doesn't care who he hurts, as long as he gets his. He will do anything to get what he wants and there is no stopping him. It's what made him a great soldier, and it's what makes him a great kingpin. He moves weight to put it lightly. There isn't a moment where an uncut key is unmoving; from a warehouse, to a plane (or car, or train), to a distributor, to a pusher, to up someone's nose. He'll try to do some damage control, make sure things aren't cut with fent, but that's only to make sure customers keep coming back. He likes to keep his hands clean, in the sense that he'll never be the one to pull the trigger on anyone that's out of line. Living up to his name, no one knows what he looks like. Hell, a lot of people don't even think he's real.

But when it comes to you, Simon's a different man. No talk about work, just you and him. Other than the multiple hidden guns around the house and Glock he sleeps with, life is normal with you. Holiday homes in the French countryside and Bahamas. Designer everything. Sports cars in all your favorite colors. You want for nothing. It's the life he wanted for you. After all those years of crying and hurt when he was away for weeks or months, you deserved the world. Want the new Hermès bag? You got it. Can't choose between the black or white louboutins? Get both. Stop eating you out because you can't feel your toes anymore? Sorry love, only thing he can't do for you.

Soap- Johnny is a small business owner. Weighs everything out by his own hand. Presses his own pills. Let's you help baggie everything up. A social butterfly, this man is at every concert, rave, or music festival. Sometimes he has a friend help push his stuff when he just wants to stay home with you, but for the most part he's his own salesman. And a damn good one. Never has overstock. No matter how much he brings with him, he'll always sellout.

Has a supernatural sense of being shorted. Can tell if a bag is even a few grams off just by holding it.

"Ye'r an idiot if ye think ye kin short me."

And when the other party denies, he always keeps a pocket scale on him, setting the parcel on it. And sure enough, he's always right.

He'll come home with a few grand, the only job you have is to sit there and look pretty. And roll his spliffs. Sitting in his lap, tucking the rolling paper into itself and licking it closed while he counts out a fat wad of cash. He hands you a fat stack,

"A've never bin good wi' money. Ye know how to spend it better than me."

He never touches the stuff he sells, no need to when all the dopamine he needs is right between your legs.

"Ten times better than any o tha' shite, anyways."

He pants in your ear while folding you in half, firm grip on your throat.

Gaz- When it comes to psychedelics, Kyle is your go-to man. He's a fucking genius, synthesizes his own DMT and LSD in a lab. It's a state of the art facility, clean with the latest and greatest equipment available. He supplies the whole Northeast. If it's a hallucinogen, it's most likely Gaz's product. And if it's good, it's definitely his. He has a cozy set up with some "organization" that he cooks for. Steers clear of actually selling to people, no need to when his clients line his pockets so well. Never brings work home, he even wears different clothes when he's in the lab.

He has a set schedule he has to adhere to but sometimes he's able to take vacations with you. And that's how you ended up bent over a balcony watching the sunset in Punta Cana,

"I work so hard to make you happy, now it's my turn yeah?"

A breeze sends a shiver up your spine while he kisses your shoulder,

"I know a private beach where you can even out those tan lines,"

Of course he doesn't give a shit about that, he just wants to fuck you silly on the seaside (and show off to anyone who might be watching.)

Price- Caring and nurturing, the man naturally has a green thumb. And alongside his prized heirloom tomatoes, he grows really, really good weed. Has a whole growroom in his basement, decked out with proper ventilation, ACs, UV lights, the works. The man grows medical grade weed that private clinics buy from him. He's legit. And of course he serves the public as well under the table, sells only to people he knows and established clients can refer others to him. He treats his plants like his babies, even going as far as to play music for them (according to him classical music helps them grow better???). You don't know where he finds the time, but he also made you rose garden for your anniversary. He brings up the idea of a family every so often. He'll finish as deep inside of you as possible,

"Let's replace that plant nursery for a real one, yeah love?"

Gonna write actual stories for each one if y'all like this ( . * 3 * . )/`

[lilkumquat27]

Another snippet of my AU ‘While It Sleeps’ Chapter 4: Scotland Forever, a confrontation between Trots and Rennick about the conditions of the Beira. Haven’t published the chap yet, but will sometime today. Can be found on my FFN. Man, do I love writing these two. Frenemies trope all the way!

Trots came down from the Administration steps calling eagerly, “Rennick! Can I have a minute, please?”

Rennick exhaled grievously, “Can I have a minute of fucking peace?”

“Sacrebleu! Here comes Union Man. Have fun, Capitaine.” Josie said cheekily as she started to make her confident jaunt back to Engineering.

Trots caught up in heavy breath, “Aye, sorry, Rennick. This couldnae wait. Can we speak in your office?”

“What’s this about?”

“You’re gonnae wanna talk to me.”

Trots and Rennick reached his office in shared silence before they finally took their seats. Rennick spread out his hands and asked, “Well? What’s this about, Ivan?”

“Look. You and I have history, so it didn’t feel right going forward with this without at least giving you a heads up.”

“I served in the war with many faces. I barely paid mind to yours’. Donny do me a favour, just spit it out.” Rennick said crassly.

“Right, then. I’ve assembled an enquiry of demands that I’ll be taking to Cadal management and yourself, considering the unsafe conditions on the Beira. I’ve received some concerning complaints and it’s upon my discretion that industrial action will be imminent if care is not taken on managements end.”

Rennick glowered, “You’ve got to be pulling my leg with this, Campbell.”

“Come now, Davey. Even my sense of humour ain’t that bad.”

“What’re these complaints? Everyone is always fucking complaining. What else they do?”

“Well, just two days ago Brodie nearly died on the dive because an umbilical came loose.”

“Aye, an octopus pulled it out. Was a doozy.”

“You and I both ken that umbilical could have never been dislodged by the likes of a marine animal. A damn octopus. Those things are made to weather much worse. It was degraded and corroded to shite when I saw it. Was due for replacing months ago. The railings down in the Under Rig are a complete travesty. At anytime they’ll give, and you’ll have a death on your hands.”

Rennick took off his glasses nonchalantly to wipe them clean as he said, “You expect me to just pull these supplies outta me arse? You think I haven’t been on Cadal every chance I get about those fucking walkways?”

“The pipefitters, Alex and Sunil, they have knowledge in those kinds of repairs. Delegate them down there for a week or two to get it done. We already have what we need.”

“They were hired for pipefitting, they’re needed at that, too. If it’s getting repaired, it’s getting done right. Best we can do is a patch, that’s not right enough.”

Trots shook his head in exasperation and continued, “Fine. The lifeboats still haven’t been installed properly. I’ve been on this rig for 2 years, and every time they’re soon to be installed it’s backdropped again!”

“Do you want me to fix the Under Rig trail or lifeboats? You canny have both, Trots.”

“That’s just it!” Trots reanimated in upset, “There’s too many to count! By all accounts, this rig shouldn’t even have personnel on it. Not until the repairs are done away and safety measures concrete. You and Cadal were so hellbent to get this operation off the ground and start drilling, you slapped this rig together with sticks and rocks just to have the face of an offshore oil rig so you could get to what really matters. Oil! Profit. Not the crew. Not the safety requirements needed for an operation with this kind of risk. It’s unacceptable, Davey! It’s immoral and frankly it should be illegal. We’re still scheduled to be out here for another eight months before we move the rig. In that time a death is a very real possibility in these kinds of conditions!”

“So, what’re you proposing? You expecting a miracle?”

“The rig should be shut down for a month or two with no personnel…” Trots started to elucidate as Rennick wheezed in disbelief, “… other than the chippies and engies to fix this rig up right as the rest of us go home. We should continue to be paid for our absence as the state of the rig isn’t our fault, it’s yours and Cadal. Then, and only then can this operation continue.”

“You’ve got to tell me what’s rattling around in that egg-shaped noggin of yours. Seems like you’ve got a fantasy world in there,” belittled Rennick as he slapped his hand to his armchair, “Honestly. You really think it’s that simple, do you?”

Trots bit down his anger at the comment and continued, “The lifeboats. God forbid there’s an accident, such as a fire that canny be contained or a lethal gas leak. If we canny evacuate efficiently enough, it’ll be a massacre. A nightmare!”

“The chopper pad…!”

Rennick was cut off by a stern Trots, “- Is not good enough execution when an evacuation order is on way! To anyone who is not on the Administration port of the rig would need to navigate and risk life to get there! When they could easily use the lifeboats to the centre of the rig and avoid being too late to evacuate. Honestly, Davey. You’re not this daft! I ken you taking the piss, right? I may have not been a face you cared to remember from the war, but I remember you were a Boy Scout for making sure your lads were kept frosty. It’s been decades, sure, but you canny tell me you forgot just… common sense! You ken this a complete joke but you’re thinking about the money. Who’s gonnae get paid when this place becomes the death trap it really is and kills us all!”

[theonceandfuturequeenoftarts]

Harry hosts Festivus

with a group of shades thanks to the resurrection stone. I have been working on this story for two years at this point, and I would love to finish it and post it for Dec. 23 (or sooner), but that hasn't worked out so far, so here's a couple snippets. Someday I'll complete it.

1.

He’ll head to the Burrow tomorrow evening to sleep over and spend Christmas with the Weasleys, but tonight – tonight is going to be something a little different. He’d heard of this thing from an American muggle program, Sane-fields or something, and now seems the perfect time to give it a whirl. As night falls, his nerves start to mount, and he may be a bit liberal with the spiked eggnog, the mulled wine, the fire whiskey… Point is, Harry’s smashed and maybe not in the best frame of mind to be making decisions. Not that he’ll let that stop him. So, with a tipsy flourish, he withdraws the Resurrection Stone from a pocket and turns it. And keeps turning it, until the room fills with the shades of all the people he wants here for this. “I got a lot of problems with you people,” Harry announces. “And now, you’re gonna hear about it.”

2. (But he's definitely not Voldemort...)

"Wait, what?" Harry says, flummoxed. "Why are you here?" The man gazes back evenly. "When the master calls, I cannot help but answer." "Shite, sorry about that." Harry winces.  "My schedule's hardly packed these days," he says dryly. "Though I wonder what you were thinking to draw this motley crew to you." "Well, I thought I was thinking of family," Harry says, dragging a hand through his hair and wobbling when he almost pulls himself off-balance. "..."  The assembled spirits look around at each other dubiously. The man's stare takes on an eerie intensity. Dumbledore's eyes begin to twinkle with tears. Harry only notices it’s gotten quieter. "...Conduct your little ritual," the man says, breaking eye contact to stare off into the fireplace. "Right then, let's get this show on the road!" Harry calls, walking back over to flop into his chair. With pride audible in his voice, Dumbledore says, “Harry, my boy, I’m so–”  And that’s as far as he gets. “Nope,” Harry says abruptly. “Nuh-uh, not a chance – not a peep out of you. This is my airing of grievances, which means you all have to listen to me. Especially you,” he adds, pointing a bit unsteadily at a mildly incensed Dumbledore. “Wh–” Dumbledore tries to speak again, only to quiet himself at Harry’s stern look. (Possibly aided by Sirius cracking his knuckles menacingly, though it’s hard to gauge how useful a beatdown would be against a ghost.) Frowning, Dumbledore gestures demonstratively at the man by the wall. “Him? He got to talk because I asked him a question.”

3.

Harry stares off into space for a moment before turning to Sirius and Remus. “Oi, Padfoot, Moony – level with me. Were you two ever, y’know, together?” Remus goes to answer but is stopped short when Sirius drapes a long arm around his shoulders and leans into him. “I’d love to satisfy your curiosity, Prongslet, but as the saying goes: what happens in animagus form, stays in animagus form,” he announces with a roguish wink.  It’s certainly something to watch mortified resignation take over Remus’ face by degrees before he simply buries it in his hands. Lily reaches over and pats him on the shoulder in long-suffering sympathy. Harry wishes he could offer the man a stiff drink. Around his horrified laughter, James chokes out, “That’s not a saying, Padfoot, you bloody slag!” “Well it should be! Like you wouldn’t’ve been up for a little adventure if Lils had been a doe,” Sirius says, elbowing a suddenly blushing, dazed-looking James in the ribs. “Yes, we were together!” Remus cuts in before Sirius can say anything else inflammatory. Alas, Harry thinks, not quickly enough. “And no, I don’t know what I was thinking.” “I reckon you were thinking I’ve got a great–” “–personality!” Remus interrupts loudly. Snape and Lily both turn to give Remus sceptical looks. Sirius looks gleeful. “Really, Moon? That’s what you’re going with?” James mutters. Remus throws his hands up in defeat. "Absolutely, my personality," Sirius says cheerfully. "Gotten a lot of compliments on my huge, throbbing personality over the years." "If you weren't already dead, I would smother you with a throw pillow." Remus sounds sincere.

[acapelladitty]

I was tagged by my beloved @gothamsgaygirlgang so here are my "Ins and Outs" for 2024!

Ins

Gaining the last FromSoft platinum I need from Sekiro.

Completing the writing on my WIP list.

Crocs (with jibbetz).

Keeping in better contact with friends.

Choosing to be kind.

SNAG tights.

Maintaining a strong work/life balance.

LUSH shower gels/shampoo.

Toasties.

Exploring more "dead dove" content with my writing.

Regular gym/swimming schedule.

Outs

Biting my nails.

Comparing my success to others.

Spending unnecessary money on shite.

Brogues.

Hesitating to try new restaurants.

Putting others before myself when my mental health is tanking.

Lipbalm (lipstick is back in town).

Overwatch 2.

Job worries.

I'll tag my various beloveds @lfthinker @voiceboss @midnightsingvogel @zombiebrainsoup @sleeping-potatoe @hoodienanami @glorified-monster @cornetespoir @corellianflyboy @inkdrawndreamer @plushievash @enigmamuse @lankybrunettepartdeux @finniestoncrane @spinejackel and any other sexy cunt who wants to do it xx

[whatisreggieshortfor]

Happy Mother’s Day

I know Gary is higher on your mutual list, but Jake fit the idea better. Happy Mother’s Day to my favorite mums, @rebelrayne and @csmicletters.

Jake x MC

The time of year had completely slipped her mind, too engrossed in getting back to work after her maternity leave ended and figuring out schedules with her husband so their infant didn’t spend too long at day care each day- not to mention she moved too far to visit her own mother for the holiday, each year turning into video calls and mailed gifts while the plane tickets waited for Christmas.

The chaos of a three month old’s sleep and feeding schedule was wreaking havoc on their lives, so when Angela’s alarm didn’t go off that morning, her exhausted body turned off it’s own internal clock to rest- no part of her sleep ridden mind seemed to register the time growing later until she finally awoke to realize the sun was no longer casting long morning shadows through her window. As her phone read eleven o clock, Angela startled. Shouldn’t she have heard her son? Or her husband? Where was Jake and Ethan? Calling out quietly, she hoped to find Jake in the kitchen. Maybe Ethan was just napping. Instead, she found a note stuck to the fridge.

Relax, love. Happy Mother’s Day. I’ve seen to the arrangements, wear your comfiest clothes and your ride will arrive at noon to pick you up. Just enjoy your day.

All my love,

Jake

Damn, she really hit the jackpot with him, huh? With a lovesick smile, Angela busied herself with a hot shower before finding her softest comfort clothes.

When the knock came, she eagerly ran to answer it, only to find Tim with a grin wearing a chauffeur hat and tuxedo t shirt, “What up, Angie? I’ll be you driver!”

She cocked an eyebrow as she let herself laugh, “How’d he talk ya into this, mate?”

“Just asked, ya prick, now let’s get a move on! We have places to be and shite.” Tim clapped his hands, overdramatically bowing and gesturing toward the lift, “After you.”

The drive was as entertaining as she anticipated, Tim never stopped making her laugh or dropping new rhymes, until he was pulling up in front of a fancy looking glass building and the door was being thrown open.

“There you are, babes!” Talia’s beaming face obscured the sun as she leaned in, grabbing Angela’s hand with a call to Tim, “See ya in a few hours!”

“Don’t break her, Tals! Jakey was very specific on timeframe!”

Angela laughed as Tim pulled away, greeting Talia and a waiting Jen with a hug, “What are you two doing here?”

“Spa time and girl chat!” Jen answered excitedly, “Jake wanted to give us a chance to catch up, poor guy felt bad that Ethan has taken up so much of what used to be girl time.”

Talia nodded, “No matter how much we told him that the little babe you had together is worth all the missed time, and Auntie Tals is perfectly happy with spoiling him and getting wine time when we can fit it in.”

Angela just hugged them again, “I love them both more than anything but it’s so good to chat to my babes again.”

Talia checked her watch before ushering the two of them to the entrance, “Schedule to keep, reservations to make.”

“Mrs Wilson?” The desk clerk looked up as they entered, and Angela blinked.

They’d been married for nearly three years now and she still wasn’t used to the change in address. “Yes?”

“Very good,” he offered a kind smile, “We have the three of you booked for a mani-pedi session, followed by a sauna treatment and a full body massage. Mr Wilson has left a message here, just to let you know that he’s already checked with the pediatrician so you don’t need to worry about the nails. The length has been selected to the safest for your baby.”

She felt the initial panic at the thought fade away as he explained, Jake had really thought this day through.

“Did I tell you guys that they hired some new bloke while I was gone?” Angela asked as the technician filed down her new nails to the baby safe length.

Talia perked up at the gossip, “Can they even do that without you?”

“If he’s a temp,” Jen offered, “My dad has walked me through the process when board members are on leave.”

Angela nodded, “Come back from maternity leave and everyone is saying their hellos and such, and this bloody prick walks up and starts telling me where things are, who’s best to get help with what, even offered to take me to dinner if I needed help getting up to speed.”

“No!”

“Yes! Mug actually said ‘if you’re here to see the VP, sorry to tell ya she’s still milking having a kid so she’s not back yet’.”

Jen’s jaw fell open, “I know you didn’t just let that slide.”

“No way in hell she let that slide!” Talia added, “What did you do, babe?”

Angela smirked, “I excused myself to my office and watched him go through panic. Didn’t fire him- told his manager to have the team give him all the work they didn’t feel like doing themselves. He tried to file a complaint but HR just told him that the VP must’ve thought he could handle it.”

“You ever gonna let him off the hook?”

“Maybe. When he learns to respect the sacrifices I’ve made for the job I do, and understands that taking maternity leave isn’t ‘milking having a kid’.”

“As you should, babes.”

Walking through the door of the flat she shared with her family, Angela felt more relaxed than she had in ages. The stress from working her ass off for promotions at work, planning their wedding- and honeymoon- followed by her pregnancy and Ethan’s newborn months had built up and boiled over until she forgot her starting point. Jake was her constant from the beginning, no matter how hard he worked at the restaurant he always made time for her and their son. He always did his best to encourage her and help her relax, he would take the midnight feedings when he could, and today was a reminder of how much he saw her. He saw her getting tense and stressed out, and he did what he could.

As she slipped her shoes off, she finally registered soft music mixing with the sounds of spoons clanging on metal, and she followed them to her boys.

Jake milled about around the kitchen, Ethan strapped to his burly chest and looking impossibly small as his tiny hands reached for whatever Jake held, “No, sweetheart, I don’t think mum is ready for you to try something like this yet. Don’t worry, I have some yummy milk ready for you.”

She giggled softly to herself as Jake noticed her presence, coming over to press a kiss to each of their cheeks, “Mum is glad to see her two loves getting along so well.”

Her husband leaned down, giving her a sweet kiss before he pulled away, “I hope you had an enjoyable day, love.”

“It was exactly what I needed, but it feels so much better to see you two again.” She carefully pulled Ethan from the carrier, letting Jake take it off and begin moving the food to the table, that he’d set with flowers and candles, “Hey, bug. Mum missed you so much. Were you good for daddy?”

“We spent the day visiting my mum, so he had a lot of excitement,” Ethan fussed softly, eager for his bottle, “and didn’t get much of a nap. My mum says he should sleep pretty well tonight, and she’ll be by in a few minutes to pick him up.”

Her face bloomed with a hopeful smile, “We’re going to have the night to ourselves?”

He nodded, holding the two of them as she started to feed their baby, “She would’ve just kept him when I visited but I knew you’d want to see him.”

“You are the perfect husband, you know that?”

“Anything for the perfect wife.” Jake chuckled, “Now, give me our little poop machine. You sit, relax. I’ve made your favorite.”

“You didn’t need to go through all the trouble, you know? I would’ve been happy to spend the day with you eating take out.”

“Never.” Jake argued, giving her another kiss on the cheek, “Today is all about you. Happy Mother’s Day, my love.”

Masterlist

[gon-and-killuas-mother]

i am attempting "light therapy" to help fix my sleep schedule and i'm cranky about it

my aunt, who's a neuropsychiatrist (one of the few women in her field and fairly well known at this point, don't know if anyone's heard of Dr. Jo Cara Pendergrass but damn she's cool) was in town this week to look after her mom post-cataract surgery

Cara is probably the smartest person in the family, all things considered

(my brother and I give her a run for her money but neither of us intend on getting a goddamn PhD lol) (also my dad wouldn't appreciate me saying that, he is also pretty smart. but like. he's got intelligence, he's just lacking in wisdom)

ANYWAY. of all the people in the family, Cara is the person i rarely have to explain my illnesses to. usually, i have to tack on a brief description of it anytime i say "yeah i have EDS and fibromyalgia and IBS and--"

but last time i saw her over Christmas, i told her the diagnosis and had my script prepared to explain, but she just went "Oh yeah Ehlers Danlos -- wait. Oh."

her face did the thing where she was processing new info at light speed by blinking and cycling through several expressions as the pieces of the mystery that is my chronic ailments settled themselves in place

unfortunately i wasn't at the point where i was comfortable enough to tell anyone how miserable and in pain i was, that was something i put off another couple of months before i confessed to Nana that i'd become a grocery thief and was on my way to being homeless. that's also around when my brother asked my permission to share my story with the family, because he knows how difficult it is for me to admit how much i'm struggling.

i'm rambling tbh but only to keep me awake and sitting outside long enough

ANYWAY

so Cara was here this week. i went to visit the other night. we always have really interesting conversations about our brains and genes and family shite, i don't think anyone other than my brother and i can actually hold a conversation with her about that kind of shit.

i did NOT go there just for advice, but when i told her how much trouble i've had getting out of bed before evening, she gave me a couple of tips that i'm now trying out

1). the 24-hour sleep deprivation strategy

it sounds like a nightmare to me, but apparently has supporting evidence that, at least in the short term, resets your circadian rhythm.

if you've ended up awake hours past your desired bedtime, then instead of simply going to bed late, it's advised* to keep yourself awake throughout the rest of the day until the next bedtime.

( * WITH CONSULTATION OR SUPERVISION OF A DOCTOR)

the reason this is supposedly effective is that the longer you stay awake, the higher the sleep pressure becomes (sleep pressure is just your body's signal to go the fuck to bed, which is something i'm intimately familiar with as it's a constant companion of mine regardless of sleep hygiene). the higher the sleep pressure the easier it is to fall asleep and, ideally, the better your sleep becomes.

Cara did emphasize that as far as we know, it's only a short term strategy. either we haven't done enough studies or we haven't figured out how to apply it to a longer term solution.

2). Light therapy

i was already somewhat aware of this but not to the extent that Cara explained.

the trick here is to force yourself out of bed (if you're able) and sit outside. preferably on sunny days. she said this even works if you end up falling asleep outside anyway, you're still absorbing sunlight.

there's no immediate change, as it does take a few days or more to notice any improvements (this checks out, as i am still drowsy as fuck) but doing this daily or semi-daily gradually convinces the body and brain to be awake earlier.

it's one of those things that a lot of disabled folk like me, especially those with fucked up sleep, would hear and get annoyed with, because we've tried so many different strategies that have each failed one way or another. and hearing "go outside" just reminds me of my mother and every yoga enthusiast insisting on all natural medicine, which understandably raises my metaphorical hackles.

but Cara, again, is the smartest person i know. i'm much more willing to take the advice of a neuropsychiatrist over a yoga mom, despite them actually agreeing on something.

and also? i do miss the Sun, quite terribly.

so if, by sometime next week, i'm magically able to wake up earlier with less struggle, i will let y'all know. i'm gonna be cranky about it, especially if it actually WORKS, but as the neighborhood mascot of Sleep Deprivation i think i'm a pretty good indicator if something like this is legit or not.

｡⁠:ﾟ⁠(⁠;⁠´⁠∩⁠`⁠;⁠)ﾟ⁠:⁠｡

[blazes-books]

Character Interview: Lust, Pride, Sloth, and Crowley

Narrator: Greetings, viewers! Welcome to a new “series” done by the author(Hi ;3) as a way of getting back into writing. This will be done via a style of questions being posed to the group - randomly chosen, at that, and answered by the characters as if they were being interviewed on tv! This may include lore spoilers, jokes, crack, and dark topics depending on said characters.

Narrator: Today, we are dealing with three of the Lowborn Seven, and one…Crowley?

Crowley: Don’t need to say it like that - just here to keep the Boss happy.

Narrator: If you say so! Let’s get right into the questions, then.

Question One: Parental Bonds Category. “Did their displeasure influence your decision? Did you decide to go ahead in order to show them up? Or did you change your mind because they disliked your choice?”

Pride: Our father obviously approves of my role and choices in like. I’m clever enough to make the right choices, and not falter - for anyone, at that. If someone is displeased with how I do things, that’s their problem to deal with.

Lust: Oh, no. I make my choices based on what I want, mostly. I’m sure our Dad would have…some things to say about my work - but, really, he’s in no position to judge if you ask me. Who leaves their kingdom and kids to go on a one hundred year vacation?

Sloth: …We have a dad?

Crowley: Do I look like I’d give a shite? Even if I did have parents, I live my life for myself and my wants alone.

Question Two: Childhood and Education Category. “How far did you advance in your education?”

Pride: Obviously I went to college. Top of my class, advance courses - every challenge I could undertake, I did and I did so flawlessly. If I didn’t, I simply stopped and focused my energy elsewhere. I won’t bother with failing endeavors, after all - that’s fools work.

Lust: Oh, no no. See, I do my research and studies myself. Nothing better than hands on learning. It might not be the most suggested of paths, but, I find myself more understanding and better at learning that way.

Sloth: Oh, I attend online college. Pride said it would be a good idea, and Wrath helps me with physical education. My grades are a bit rough though, my…memory isn’t the best. Or my sleep schedule, for that matter.

Crowley: No comment.

Narrator: Crowley, sir, this is so people can learn more about your character - who you are! You have to answer.

Crowley: I did. My answer is no comment.

Narrator: *Sighs* Moving on, then…

Question Three: Personal Opinions Category. “What is your idea of a really fun time?”

Pride: Oh, oh! I love a good business meeting. Learning about new products, criticizing others ideas, and coming up with new ways to implement new products. Really, I can’t picture a better way to spend my time. Though, I…do enjoy seeing my siblings. Even if we’re all rather busy most of the time.

Lust: *Glances around* Ah…I don’t know if this is…censor friendly?

Narrator: Don’t worry dear, there’s no judgement here.

Lust: Well, I…I quite enjoy…romance novels. T-They have to have a happy ending though! And no cheating, I hate cheating so much!! Just, curled up in a soft blanket, some chocolate covered popcorn and hazelnuts, it’s the perfect way to spend my down time. True crime is rather nice, too, but only on rainy days.

Narrator: Well…that wasn’t so bad—

Lust: Although a good orgy can be equaling relaxing for me —

Sloth: My turn! I, I really like going to the carnival, or fairs. The food there is the best - don’t tell Geegee I said that - and sometimes, I can even win prizes. I give the really big ones to Lust though, I know she likes plushies more.

Crowley: *Loud sigh* I can’t skip this one too, can I?

Narrator: Please don’t.

Crowley: Fine. Gardening, I like gardening. It’s…helpful, to me. Keeps my mood up and my temper even.

Question Four: Childhood and Education Category. “What was your course of study?”

Pride: Economics of course, for my major. My minor was philosophy.

Lust: Oh, well, I didn’t really - I don’t really have a course of study, but, I guess I’d count as…sociology, perhaps?

Sloth: I’m actually working on mine now. I don’t know what I officially want to do, though.

Crowley: Ass kicking, next question.

Question Five: Fears, Challenges, and Obstacles Category. “How will your life change if you do get this thing or solve this problem?”

Pride: What problem have I not already solved or can solve? I have everything handled, at all times, and I most certainly do not need help. Move on, thank you.

Lust: If…if I solve my problem? *She takes a moment to think about this visibly* I…I would hope I’d be happier. Finally being able to decide who I am, to know who I am and have my family accept every part of me…I know it wouldn’t solve everything, but, I think it would be a great start.

Sloth: By the fires of hell, please let me sleep. I’m literally supposed to be the embodiment of like, extra unneeded sleep, and I have insomnia. I just want some sleep, on a regular basis.

Crowley: Which one? *Deep sigh* Either one, I think, would be nice to have off my list. I’d love for Lady Lust to be happier, to know she’s ok and just…never have to see her fall so far again. I…I also want my boyfriend to know the truth about me, and for us to be able to be together without hiding it. I don’t think that’ll happen anytime soon, though.

Question Six: Parental Bonds Category. “Are your parents still living?”

Pride: Yes, our father is very much alive and well, thank you for asking.

Lust: Dad is still kicking, last I heard. Surprised, honestly, you’d think the hunters would’ve gotten to him by now.

Sloth: Again, we have a Dad?!

Crowley: Can’t be, considering I don’t have ‘em. If they were, they’re lyin’.

Question Seven: Occupation Category. “Would you rather be doing something else? If so, what would it be?”

Pride: Oh, no! Not at all, I rather enjoy my work. It’s pleasing, it’s easy, and it’s quite literally what I was born to do. Why would I ever question it?

Lust: I…no, not really. I know I’ve been questioning myself recently, and I think I’d enjoy branching out, but I do enjoy my work and love what I do. Every part of it.

Sloth: Kind of? I’m mostly just upset how it makes me need to sleep, to be the Sin of Sloth, but because I’m a demon, my body doesn’t want the sleep. It sucks, but I…can’t tell anyone that. I know how Pride feels about it, I’ve seen how she reacts to Lust. As for what I’d choose…I, I think I’d like making dolls.

Crowley: No. I’m good at my job, I’m suited for my job, and I like my job. And if you ever tell Lust I said that last bit - I’ll tell ‘er you’re lyin’.

Question Eight: Current Household And Relationships Category. “How do you feel about the place where you are now? Is there something you are particularly attached to, or particularly repelled by, in this place?”

Pride: I feel rather good about where I’m currently living. It’s a lovely place, everything there suits myself and my tastes, and I’ve kept it perfect. I’m rather attached to my balcony, honestly. I enjoy taking a glass of bubbly out there, watching the city in the nighttime. Like stars, gleaming on earth. None of them shine like me, it’s a wonderful reminder.

Lust: …I’m looking to move out, soon. Quickly. Crowley even helped me pack my things back when I was…unable to. Everything expect my bedroom. The sheets, pillows, and blankets specifically. I’m going to be burning those.

Sloth: Oh, my dorm? It’s…ok. I haven’t put much up, honestly. Seems like too much work. I like my plushie pile, though. Sometimes I sleep better there than my actual bed!

Crowley: Eh, it’s a home. Got my plants, my bed, my things. I guess I’m rather attached to my wardrobe but, that’s just because I value my style. Oh, and give this to the Boss won’t ya? *Proceeds to hand over a lighter* I heard she’ll need it.

End of Interview!

Narrator: Well, that wraps things up here! Thank you four for participating, and who knows? Maybe we’ll see you back for a second interview.

This has been a character interview with Lust, Pride, Sloth, and Crowley!

[bandzboy]

so upset i probably won’t see skz or txt perform bc the performances will probably be at crack of dawn for me

[neutronstarsign]

i’m so done with these constant heatwaves. my running endurance is complete shite at the 25 degrees we’ve been having since May so for me to do any kind of meaningful training i’d need to go out way early or way late, which i can’t do because i’m trying to fix my piss poor sleep schedule.

honestly i am so pissed and dejected. when will this end???

[lilkumquat27]

Still Wakes the Deep has consumed me. I made a French OC in my fanfic While It Sleeps. Could see Natalia Dyer playing her. Basically a prelude to Caz’s first days on the rig. Here’s a little snippet from the first chapter of her fighting with Rennick. Apprécier.

“Capitaine!”

“Cartier, the fuck is the problem now?”


“Don’t play fucking dumb with me, you see where I’m calling you from! Mind telling me why zee 'Jack-off Five' are in Engineering using drill when you know I fix today!”


“The drill needs to be tested, Cartier. It’s scheduled. I’ve already told you not to be calling me about this shite, I’m fucking scunnered of it!”


“That’s merde! Fucking merde! Connard oublieux! You scheduled me in here today! If you sink I’m working another double you can kiss my lily white ass cheek! Slovenly! You get zese pricks out now!”


“Did you not monopolize Engineering yesterday? Or Mud Handling the day before?! It’s a fucking test, Cartier, it’ll take an hour. Gies peace and get fucked out of there!”


Josie made an affronted gasp. “I work where I am needed, no? You tell me zat when I start! I am needed at zee dash! These fucking bouffons will fuck it up worse, then more of my time wasted in cleaning up shit! You have any idea how over worked I am?! You wanna know the last time I have more than two-hour sleep?! Do you enjoy fucking me, Rennick?! Cause let me tell you, would be nice if you at least bought me a rose and a fucking croissant!” Her voice carried more irate, likely grating on Rennick’s phone receiving. Caz was in complete shock, unable to process Josie was actually speaking to Rennick that way. But for Gibbo, Addair, O’Connor and Finlay, it was just another regular annoyance. Despite the disbelief, he was thoroughly amused, almost fighting the urge to laugh.


“Oh, give a rest you mewling frog. No one forced you to take that scholarship. I’d sure be right as rain if you fucked off back to France!”


Josie stomped her foot to the floor petulantly. “Maybe I will! And take my grant money with me! Wouldn’t your overlords love zat, you dog. You’re stuck with me. Whether you like it or not. When I want something, you give it! And I want zee twats out of my way! C’est putain d’absurde!”


“Oh, go cry about it to someone who cares, ya dafty cunt!”


The phone clicked when Rennick hung up, making Josie gasp like it was her last breath. Josie screamed, “Putaaaaain!” She started to dial again.


O’Connor called up to her, “Oh, yer aff yer heid, lass!”


“Ferme ta gueule!”


O’Conner sighed down to his boots and sat down to the floor, as Gibbo leaned against the railing in grievance.


Addair said, “To hell with her. Let’s do it.”


“Not until she’s done,” warned Caz, stepping before the control room.


“She sounds pretty fucking done to me, lad. She’s been done for a while now. Move on, would ya? We got work to do.”


“I’m sure you do. But so do we. You can sit tight till she’s done.”


Addair sputtered, “Pretty soon for an ode of loyalty, mate. Let me guess… it’s the norks on her, innit? They cast a fucking spell.”


“Shut it, both of you.” Finlay stepped between Caz and Addair suddenly.


Josie eventually got back on with Rennick (after three attempts). His answer was anything but content. “Cartier!”


“I am just getting started, Capitaine!”


“You’re doin’ my fucking nut in! You call me again and I’ll…”


“And you’ll what? Finish the sentence, connard. I fucking dare you!”


Finlay rubbed her hand back her head, “She doesn’t give up that’s for fucking sure.”


“You tell me to go down to Engineering to fix dash! You saddle me with electrician when I am mechanical engineer! Zen you change plans and bring fucking Addair into my workplace! Get your head and dick out of zee mud and do your fucking job! All your managing is how your ass sits in zat comfy little office chair! I want Addair out! Now! Or I swear to you I will do it!”


“That’s a load of shite.”


“You think I won’t? You think Cadal would be happy to hear zat zair manager a useless prick?! Merde! I’ve done worse!”


“Fuck you and fuck your fucking grant, you wee French cow!”


“Oui! L’amour! Talk dirty to me, monsieur!” She almost moaned it, then reformed back to her vicious growl. “But it won’t change my mind, you Scottish twat! Watch me! Ha!” She slammed the phone back to the hold. She whipped back around and started pacing angrily back through the rails…. To be continued.

Wanna read more check it out on my FFN, cringethinking!

Honestly though, this was brought about because I so badly wanted to see a French character in this story. So I made my own.