#and then it all came rushing back

[koroart]

Middle of the night Fraldarius fam feels — goodnight everyone 💤🌙

[weaselle]

being a line cook is insane but people do it anyway

do you want to know the secret to why line cooks stay line cooks?

We're addicted to a certain aspect of the job. A sort of combination of Pride and Power.

See, most of what is going on in that restaurant comes down to you. If the restaurant was a dairy, you'd be the cow, everything is based on what you produce; how much, how fast, and of what quality.

And it's INSANELY hard for most people to do. It requires you to keep mental track of tons of stuff while doing complicated physical creation in a dangerous environment under intense pressure

Any line cooks reading this? let me recreate a moment most of us have had many many times

For the rest of you this will be a nice window into the line cook experience

you have a rail FULL of tickets, and the printer will NOT stop printing more.

You've got a stove FULL of stuff you're cooking, and half of it is for stuff you don't even have a ticket for, because of something on a table that already went out was wrong or missing, or a server forgot to put something on a ticket and needs it in a hurry, or...

the tickets you are working on are for tables that finished their appetizers 45 minutes ago, and it could be an hour before you even get a chance to read whatever the printer is currently printing.

You have a head FULL of stuff you're tracking: how quickly the sauce is thickening in this pan, whether the garlic is about to burn in that pan, how long before you drain the pasta in that pot before it over cooks. As soon as the thing in the oven for table 31 is 5 minutes from done you gotta put the other thing on the flat top to go with it, you're putting together Something on your board and you can't finish it because you need a refill of an ingredient from the walk-in but you can't go get it because if you leave the kitchen you'll burn the thing in the salamander. And you can't plate the thing in salamander yet because the Something you're putting together on your board is taking up all the room you had left in this disaster of a kitchen

Three people have just told you complicated changes to dishes you have to organize and keep in your head. Something like

"24 needs 3 gnocchi not 4, and 2 with no rosemary; 3 needs all 4 gnocchi to have extra rosemary, 2 with no garnish; 22 needs an extra gnocchi extra garnish no rosemary, salads are almost out you can go in 3 or 4 minutes"

The manager, assistant manager, about 8 servers, and a fuckton of people at tables are all waiting on YOU with an impatience bordering on fury.

right? sound familiar? okay that's not the moment, that's just the dinner rush on a night somewhere between bad and average.

The moment happens when, during this insanity, you reach an internal place where you become completely overwhelmed. Panic and frustration and over stimulus all rise up and wipe your brain completely clean. You can't think, you have no idea what to do, you want to run away, you want to quit, you can barely think of your own name, everything feels completely impossible.

And then. The Moment

You pull it back together.

You stop being overwhelmed, you stop panicking, you insist that it IS possible, and that you are going to do it. You decide what has to happen and you start. You clear all the clutter you can from your kitchen. You pull all your tickets as far down the rail as possible and scan through the tickets on the printer so you have an idea of how things are going to go. You write down a couple of times on tickets that you would usually keep in your head but you need the brain space. You group the tickets according to not only time but what dishes they have in common so you can do batches of things. You decide if you can just get these two things out of your way you'll be in a much better position and so you concentrate on getting those two things cooked and plated. You beg the dishwasher to grab you the thing you need from the walk-in. You call your assistant manager or manager into the kitchen and you tell them you need them to start you 8 gnocchis: 3 no rosemary one extra garnish, 4 extra rosemary two no garnish, and one normal.

Right? Okay so first of all, as you can see... The job is INSANE

and second of all. Not everybody is capable of that Moment. The moment you stare already-existing catastrophic failure in the face and tell it No. That moment.

and you have to be capable of that moment if you want to be a line cook.

Which means pretty close to zero other people in that restaurant can do what you can do.

So now let me tell you a story.

I was 19 years old. I was a line cook at an italian joint. We're slammed off our ass one night, and the manager is in the little galley kitchen with me, and he's just standing there because he isn't good enough to not be in the way if he tries to help

and he's over my should about everything, telling me to drain that more or turn the heat down on this etc.

Finally, I stop completely, look him dead in the eye, and say "Tony, i'm not cooking another thing until you leave this kitchen."

I'm 19. Ive worked here six months. Tony is twice my age and married to the owner's daughter. There is a heavy pause.

Then Tony turns around and walks out of the kitchen.

What's he going to do, send me home? Zero other people in this restaurant can do the thing that makes it a restaurant. If i go home the customers are going home too.

And that's the real reason most line cooks stay line cooks even though the job feels like a war you never win.

It's that interplay of Pride and Power. For those few hours, the restaurant is happening because of you.

That's the power.

For the other part, try pulling a cook off the line during the rush. You can't. Even if they are in the weeds. Maybe even especially if they are in the weeds.

Once i was working with a cook who, in the middle of the dinner rush, sliced is hand open - a cut both deep and wide, pouring blood. No bandage we had was going to be a solution for it.

So he popped a latex glove on that hand, triple wrapped a rubber band around his wrist to keep the blood in, washed with soap, and went right back to cooking.

Because it was the dinner rush and no one else could do the job, and he wasn't coming off that line.

30 minutes in he had to swap gloves because it had filled with blood like a water balloon and was making it hard to cook. Leaving the line was never even a question.

that's the pride

[makorragal-312]

Just caught the promo for the show going to ABC on Twitter so I thought it was the perfect time to finally ask the question .

[peridots-pixiwolf]

[Start ID. A three-circle venn diagram with Gabriel from Ultrakill, the Lonely Wizard from Inscryption, and the Hollow Knight from the game of the same name. Between Gabriel and Lonely is the text "guys will see a character with vague biology, say 'is anyone gonna buggify that' and not wait for an answer". Between Lonely and Hollow is the text "void beings placed in solitary confinement by a superior they admired with the intention of keeping them there forever". Between Hollow and Gabriel is the text "existed only to be a tool for their god. just wants to be perfect. never allowed to be a person". In the center between all three is just the word "trauma". End ID

having Thoughts

[idrawgaystffs]

Made this for Day 1 of Portal Drawtober: “Portal 1 or Portal 2?”

(Guess it also applies to day 2: Favorite character? Cause I Live for GLaDOS!)

Why not both?! I really like Portal 2 of course with it’s more in-depth story and of course our Queen of Aperture’s newer model!

This was an attempt to make a mixed bag version of GLaDOS with a more logical bridge between the games

(Prompt List by @chelltastic)

[amugoffandoms]

BURTS DOOR OPEN

HOLY SHIT HOLY DUCKING SHIT

im doing a drawing for kazui right now and I was like haha what if I threw in an ace of spades

and then got flashbacks to the one scene where he's talking to hinako with various magic tricks above him and GUESS WHAT FUCKING CARD WAD ABOVE HIM

THE GODDAMN ACE OF SPADES

so something I learned about while playing EXIT/Corners a long time ago is that the Ace of Spades is commonly regarded as the Card of Death

Now, what if this was a prediction of what was to come?

Kazui was explaining what he could do in this scene, with all the cards and magic wands and whatnot. He did not realize that lying would end in her death.

Kazui seems more content in talking/explaining instead of how you do the trick (A common phrase is, "A magician never tells their secrets."), which is why he never noticed the Card of Death from the get-go.

He never wanted to harm her, only impress her in some ways, which is why he's showing off his tricks/lies. But, when he finally tells the truth, he never noticed that Card of Death – he never realized she would die.

And, I feel as though this is probably a deliberate choice of MILGRAM's part because there's loads of detail into the A and the Spade itself.

Now, we can move past the Card of Death thing for just a moment and look more into the Ace of Spades.

While looking into this, I found a website that says the Ace of Spades means change.

Now, I don't know how well it fits, but the words "inherent power each of us possesses to mold and shape our reality, irrespective of the external conditions we face" somehow remind me of Kazui. How he lied to protect his wife.

To make sure his wife felt loved, even when he wasn't sure of himself/of the marriage.

Unknowingly, he lied to protect Hinako even when he wasn't sure of anything, but, in the end, Hinako's death would always come to be.

It’s for the sake of true love, who wouldn’t lie for that?

[evakant]

i know wei wuxian is first pick as god/personification of death etc. etc. (duh, perfect choice, so sexy) but i would like to propose jiang cheng for the part. in the same way elizabeth swann is death from that one post about her kisses damning the men she loves

in the way everything he touches and everything he loves seems to be doomed (sect, parents, sister, brother)

wei wuxian as life!!! as god of life!!! coming back, unkillable. life giving (core transfer, wen ning, etc.)*

jin ling doesn't die because at the end of the story, at the guanyin temple, wei wuxian is there too. to protect him the same way he protected jiang cheng

and this is why he (wei wuxian) has to go back to being yunmeng jiang's head disciple, in this essay i will—

*i'm not saying he lives well, but he lives! he fucking claws and crawls and fights his way out of the burial mounds, he just doesn't fucking quit** you know what i mean

**until he does, but that's a choice he makes.

[imarvelatthestars]

Persistance

Pairings: Clone Veteran (from Kenobi) Tai x f!Reader

Warnings: none

Notes: I know we're all here for Tai and his sweetheart, but I am highkey crushing on Marshal Tilelli and I want other people to also love her. Just saying 🤷🏻‍♀️

I also borrowed some New Zealand sign language for the Tuskens as a little nod to Tem 💕

[previous chapter] [next chapter]

The desert is cold at night, but it’s painful outside the warmth of a few walls and a single blanket. You didn’t think about that before you left. You weren’t thinking at all when you left. Now you’re… well, you’re not sure where you are, you just know that you’re freezing and alone and you’re terrified.

“Get down! Everyone, get down!”

You close your eyes against the memory, but it persists. The marshal’s blaster drawn and her eyes wild, the other townsfolk rushing through the doorway, the youngest member crying inconsolably.

“Ilo, get over here!”

His claws digging into your shoulder as he pushed you down behind the bar, the people squeezing in around you as they hunkered down out of sight.

“Nej is hurt bad,” you’d heard over the sudden thundering of adrenaline and blood in your ears. There was a moment of silence, then, “They took half our farming equipment.”

Nej. The moisture farmer. Tai’s employer.

You remember wanting to shout, wanting to demand his whereabouts, the panic settling in and choking your breath and your very voice out of you.

“Keep ‘em safe. I’m going after ‘em.”

The memory dissipates as quickly as it appeared, which is a blessing. You don’t want to relive the rest. The horror in the pit of your stomach, the bile in your throat. You can’t. You won’t. You don’t have the luxury. If you give it breath, it will overwhelm you and then you’ll lose yourself. You’ll never find him.

And you will find him. The Emperor himself couldn’t stop you.

Everything hurts. His shins are on fire, mostly where he’d sustained his worst injuries on Umbara, but his chest is burning too. The air is sharp and cold, and his civvie wear isn’t enough to keep him protected against the elements, so every breath hurts. His ears are somehow both hot and cold. The top of his head is burnt again and the backs of his hands are cracked from Tatooine’s dry heat. Now they hurt too with the chilly night air. And his feet. He wants to lie down and never get up again. Too many years of charging into battle in shitty boots, too many years of carrying too much gear with him, wearing his joints down until it feels like they’ve turned to dust whenever he moves too much.

And they’re watching him. The children are the most obvious about it – they lounge in their parents’ arms with their eye gear trained on him, following him when he leans one way or the other. Most of the adults don’t seem too interested, but he isn’t fooled by their neutrality. He can feel them watching him when he turns his back and he knows he would be doing the same if the positions were reversed. Their leader doesn’t shy away from his observations, though. Or she. They all look the same to him.

As Tai tilts back his head to observe the stars, Cody’s voice comes to him, warning him of Tatooine’s rural dangers, the creatures that lurked beyond the dunes and the violence they wrought. He remembers the concern creasing your brow and the hesitancy in your eyes. He thinks of you. He hangs his head.

What a fine mess this has all turned out to be. Everything he tries seems to be going wrong these days. The date, your escape from Daiyu, resettling in Mos Nefta. He’s tempted to think he’s cursed because it seems impossible that anyone else could manage to have such poor luck. Perhaps it’s the universe’s way of paying him back for uprooting your life, or for what happened in the Temple…

No. He can’t afford to think like that, he can’t afford to lose his focus. He promised himself and you that he wouldn’t let his mind go there, he wouldn’t allow even a possibility of talking himself out of letting you go. He has to stand by that now more than ever because if there’s one thing that’s going to get him out of this, it’ll be the thought of coming home to you.

One of the massifs huffs and rearranges its sleeping position. The fire crackles. The leader’s gaze rests heavy on his back, so Tai returns to his work. Reinstalling the farming equipment is difficult without Nej’s help and his hands karking hurt, but he has to keep trying. Stay on their good side. And maybe they’ll let him go when it’s all over.

There’s a rocky outcropping just ahead, the one thing within 20 klicks that isn’t stupid fucking sand. Sand never used to bother you, but now it’s pissing you off. It’s shifty and unstable, and every time you trip over yourself, it winds up filling your boots and sticking between your toes. It burns your skin when you brush over it too fast and with too much force, like when you fall and grab pointlessly at a handful. The sooner you get to that outcropping, the sooner you can sit and rethink your next move.

You trudge forward, exhausted. You haven’t exerted yourself like this in years. All you want is to settle back into bed with Tai and sleep for five days. Who cares if it’s in Ilo’s front room? At least it’s vaguely comfortable and sheltered from the elements. At least Tai would be there. But he’s not.

Sand people. That was what the townsfolk were all whispering about. Horrible monsters that hid their skin under layers and layers of cloth, violent things shrouded in mystery. They made awful sounds. They took things when they wanted them without a care for the people they took from. And they’d taken Tai, along with half of the farming equipment he and Nej had spent so much time working on.

What would they do to him? Torture him? Keep him as a slave? Murder him? You have no idea what these beings were capable of, you just know that they’d taken the most precious thing in the universe right out from under you and you were lost without him.

Your hand lands on the nearest piece of rock as you crawl out of the sand and beach yourself. Everything is quiet for a few moments, except for the rapid pounding of your heartbeat. Everything is still.

“Thought I told you t’ stay put.”

Dank fucking farrik, Sith’s hells, what the-! You practically fly out of your skin and nearly go tumbling over the side of the outcropping when the voice hits you. The only thing that stops you is a pair of boots and the person wearing them – Marshal Tilelli.

“Easy there, Miss Starla.”

Your sanity is hanging on by a thread and if you have to hear that fake ass name one more time, you’re going to scream.

“Don’t call me that,” you snap as you roll onto your hands and knees to catch your breath. “You scared the shit out of me.”

She has the audacity to snort at you. “You’re outta your depth out here, city girl. That’s why I told you t’ stay in town.”

“Ilo’ll look after you. You keep everyone calm handin’ out drinks, and I’ll bring your man back fer you.”

You’d frantically shaken your head at her. “You don’t understand, he’s my-…” Your what? Tai’s more than a lover and technically less than a spouse, but… that’s not how it feels in your heart. He’s all of that and more.

The marshal had smiled very kindly at you and rested her hand on your shoulder. “I understand better ‘n you’d think.”

“He needs me.” It was about then that you had started to cry.

“He needs you alive. Which means you’re stayin’ here.”

The logical part of your brain had agreed with her. Unfortunately, the rest of your brain had gone into a panic and taken over. You ran and you didn’t look back. You followed the tracks that the invaders and the marshal had left behind with the singular goal of recovering your love at any cost.

“Where is he?”

Tilelli sighs. She twirls her toothpick from one corner of her mouth to the other and lifts her eyes to the horizon, one leg propped up on the rocks and her forearm braced against her thigh. She looks like something out of a holofilm.

“’bout 2 more klicks.”

Is that all? Bone tired though you are, you surge forward on unsteady legs, ready to march off and recover your man, only to be stopped by a hand on your arm.

“You’re not comin’.”

“Yes, I am.”

She fixes you with a pointed look that doesn’t entirely make you want to back down, but you do pause for a moment. “That blaster,” she says with a nod toward your hip. Tai’s blaster. The one you took out of his pack before you left. “You ever fired it before?”

You’ve shot those toy blasters at the yearly fair, the ones where you can win a prize if you shoot down all the nexus in under a minute, and your aim wasn’t half bad. You punched that stormtrooper back home. You walked all the way here, cold and alone, and you were only half lost. That has to count for something.

But your silence is the only answer you can manage and it’s answer enough for Tilelli. “Respectfully, ma’am, I ain’t riskin’ bringin’ you with me. I’m riskin’ enough comin’ out here on my own. I outta march us both right back into town and leave those parts and your fella with the Tuskens.” And you start to protest, but she holds up a hand. “But I won’t. ‘cause I ain’t heartless.”

You wonder for a moment just what kind of a woman the marshal is, because she’s not like anyone you’ve met before, except for maybe Tai or Cody. Perhaps there was more to her than the charming persona she often fronted with.

She crosses her arms over chest. “Now if I tell you t’ stay here, are you gonna listen? Or am I just wastin’ my breath?”

It’s not that you want to be rude. Because you don’t. You like the marshal best out of everyone in town and it’s clear that they all respect her. And to so bluntly say that you’re planning on disregarding her orders feels a little too harsh to you. But it’s still the truth.

After a few moments of nervous chewing on your lip, you find your voice again. “I’m not turning my back on him, not if he’s so close. I’m not leaving him.”

Tilelli nods as if she were expecting this. “Thought you might say somethin’ like that.” She extends her left arm and wriggles her fingers a bit. “Gimme that blaster. Better make sure you know how t’ use the damn thing.”

“I don’t understand you!”

These creatures make noises the likes of which he’s never before heard. It’s hard to imagine how it could even constitute a language, but it clearly does. Even the children seem to understand what’s being asked of him, even the gestures they make with their hands to accompany their grunting appear to have a meaning, but none of it makes sense to him. He was never trained for this. This was the kind of nonsense General Skywalker or Kenobi would handle. He was built to fight, not to barter peace.

But he also knows that he is massively outnumbered. They have the advantage in every way that counts. The only thing he has is desperation and the element of surprise. Which all adds up to the general outcome of ‘not looking good’.

So he backs down when the leader gets in his face, growling at him for Maker only knows what. He bows his head and raises his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright! I’ll try again.” He points to the equipment sticking awkwardly out of the sand and nods. “Blasted nerf herders.”

What he doesn’t say is how half this kit won’t even work beyond the moisture farm. That Nej would be better at this than he is. He’s out of his depth, working too hard on something he still has too little an understanding of. That he’s so hungry, he feels like he’ll be sick. He’s parched, he’s tired, he’s angry.

He’s a soldier and that means he shouldn’t have been taken by surprise like that, he should’ve been more on guard, more attentive. He should have fought harder. He shouldn’t have let them hurt Nej, shouldn’t have let them land a single blow, but… he did. And now he’s here and he’s afraid because he has no armor, no weapons, no back up. Nothing except his owns hands and his wits, both of which have lost their edge.

He dives into the wiring of the stupid, shitty equipment these beings are desperate to have, blinking back his fatigue, and he thinks again of you. He hopes you’re sleeping. You need as much of it as you can get because you’ve been out of sorts since you first arrived. Working hard and late, taking care of him in the evenings, doing more than he’s ever asked of you, and all for him. He misses you so damn much. It takes him by surprise just how much.

He will make it back to you. Somehow. He’s not sure how, but-

The massifs are suddenly going crazy, growling and grumbling at something in the dark, whatever it is he just can’t make out. The children and their parents all hurry into their tents while the soldiers and their weapons stand on alert. The leader has stepped to the forefront of the camp, just past the fire and with a staff in hand. Its metal tip glistens in the silvery light of the moons and the russet hue of the fire. But still, Tai can see nothing beyond the faint outline of the dunes and the sleeping banthas.

The leader shouts something into the sands and, to Tai’s surprise, something shouts back.

“We come in peace!”

He’s not sure he’s ever been so happy to hear another voice, particularly the drawling voice of the marshal. It’s still too dark for him to see her, but just knowing that she’s there is enough to ease his anxieties.

The leader grunts, probably something along the lines of ‘who the hell are you?’

“You know damn well who. Probably why you waited ‘til after my rounds t’ do your dirty work, eh?”

Some more guttural sounds, this time complex enough that Tai can’t really guess at its translation, accompanied by some gestures.

“Mos Nefta’s never done a thing t’ you and you know it.”

There’s a flash of durasteel in the dark, a glimpse of a broad brimmed hat and dark skin, but there’s something else hiding in the shadows with her. He can’t see what it is, can’t properly see around the creatures and their weapons, but he knows something is there. Maybe she brought someone with her?

“I’ll ask once,” says Tilelli, “and then I won’t ask again, you understand? Return what you stole. You need somethin’? Maybe we can come to an arrangement, but this is not how you get it.”

Tilelli steps further into the light, accompanied by her shadow, and Tai’s breath catches in his throat. What in the galaxy are you doing here? You catch his eye as the firelight shimmers over you and in that moment, nothing else exists. There is only you, there will only ever be you.

“Tai.” Your voice trembles like a leaf in the wind, eyes wet and sad. “Tai!” You start for him, your bodies drawn to one another like magnets, but you’re stopped by the marshal’s hand on your arm as it pulls you back.

The creatures raise their weapons at your advance, start whispering among themselves.

“Wait!” Tilelli shows them her hands and then makes a couple of gestures like the ones he’s seen already, but different, softer: barely curved hands, one pressed atop the other and held to the chest as her body rocks from side to side, followed by a dividing motion. “You understand?”

They look to each other in quiet contemplation, likely determining what they will choose to do, but he doesn’t care. Maker forgive him, he doesn’t give a single shit about anyone else because all he can see is you. He just needs to know you’re okay, that he’s okay, that he can go home with you; that’s all that matters now.

The galaxy holds its breath with him, the air goes completely still, more so than it has been the entire evening, and he waits. And waits. And he sees you struggling, and it breaks his heart.

And then they part – the sand, the dunes, the creatures, all of it splits right down the seam and a path opens up from him to you. He sizes up the situation before he allows himself to give in. Is it safe? Is it genuine? Can he…?

You’re already running to him. Your legs aren’t accustomed to walking in the uncompacted sand and you wobble as you go, but Tai’s certain he’s never seen a more beautiful sight. He takes a breath and he runs. His senses are attuned to everything around him just in case, but it all goes away once you come crashing into his arms. Your arms go flying around his neck and your nose, cold at the tip, nestles into his neck, your face is damp, and he can feel sweat soaking through your clothes at the small of your back.

It’s perfect. You’re perfect. Hot, cold, sweaty, teary-eyed, and frantic, and he’s never loved you more because you came for him. You’re a civilian. He’s pretty sure you’ve never even touched a real weapon before you met him, but you’re here, you tracked him through the desert. And you’re alive and he’s alive, and maybe, it’s just possible, that everything’s going to be okay for once.

“Ner kotir dala.” It unfolds from his tongue on instinct, even though he’s hardly spoken to you in Mando’a beyond a few hesitant utterances. “Thought I’d never see you again, mesh’la.” He takes your face in his hands and rubs his big thumbs across your cheeks. “What are you doing here, hm? What were you thinking? Jare gar oyay par ni, for an old idiot?”

“I thought…” You’re still shaking, except now you’re crying too. “Couldn’t let them hurt you. I love you so much and I-“

The kiss he lands on you is messy. He can’t decide if he should keep his tongue to himself or not, not because he wants to take you in front of all these people, but because he’s so overwhelmed by your love and by his love for you, he can feel it in his very soul. He doesn’t know how to show it the way he’s feeling it. Keep his mouth closed and give you the most tender of kisses to show how deeply he appreciates this risk that you took to get him back, how proud he is of you? Or open you up to him like he’s learned how to do, like he loves to do, remind you that he’s here and he’s alright and he’s going to take care of you once this is all over? It ends up somewhere in between the two.

translations:

the 2 hands held to the chest and rocked - lover(s) (yes, this is NZ sign language!)

ner kotir dala - my brave woman

jare gar oyay par ni - risking your life for me

tai taglist: @dystopicjumpsuit @clonemedickix @multi-fan-dom-madness @deejadabbles @moodymisty @rain-on-kamino @temple-elder @wanderer-six @jambolska-grozdova @bambambunny @andrakass2 @wings-and-beskar @arandomnerdsblog578 @roadara23 @wizardofrozz @kakashibabe02

please let me know if you would like to be added to or taken from this list!

[asukiess]

it's so liberating to just write the fucking story you want to write....

[creapysummer]

tell me something. literally anything :)(/gen)

cheetahs have a white spot on the tips of their tails so that when they're hunting in tall grass their cubs can find them also cubs have a fur pattern similar to honey badgers as a form of camouflage

[minamotoz]

riley asking shawn, "when you looks at me, does it remind you of what you can't have?" was a crazy ass moment because yes the line was about shawns intimacy issues and his inability to commit to a longterm relationship, but holy shit if that isn't the most blatant way you could confirm that shawn was in love with cory and the existence of riley was just a constant reminder that he had missed his chance and could never be with cory. what if i went insane

[yuriyuruandyuraart]

AAA I'm back (temporarily HHH) to tell you guys I'm waiting to get a new computer cause mine is too old to support my drawing programs anymore xd

This is why I haven't been drawing/answering asks (along with multiple other reasons such as lessons and work SOB) so please be patient with me until I save up enough to buy myself a new laptop so I can post art like usual >:'D

[itadorey]

hi inez! do you have any favorite satoru fics?

omg ok time for a confession... i don't read a ton of satoru fics bc he's not really one of my faves <//3 AHAHAH im sorry BUT!! i do have some that i've rbed and blogs that write good gojo stuff in general!

i really like sel's (@/shotorus) gojo works i think she writes so beautifully

miss hannah (@/hannzai) also has a lot of fun gojo fics!!

katie (@/yueebby) has literally made me swoon with her fics

alexis (@/kissxcore) also... chef's kiss i think about the halloween fic "be honest" a lot

venecia (@/suget) omg i read her works on ao3 and i fell in love with "cold"

i also know that @/augustinewrites has a lot of gojo works and i always think they're amazing

"family photo" by @/naosaki omg i also think about that fic a lot

@/ufo-ikawa has a gojo fic that is nsfw but its so funny and amazing yeah its called "a kindness"

and the lovely mina @/dateko also has some wonderful works

im sorry this is not nearly everything i have read and i did not include everyone i know that writes for gojo but i feel like it's the ones that first came to mind!! i hope this helped <3 i will probably come to add more things to this im not finished

[expatesque]

I'm redoing my garden and it's still in progress but it's looking so cute. In related news: I'm pretty sure I'm staying in London.

[chrliekclly]

I’m sorry but you camera for the show? What? I’m so high rn I can’t understand this. You see the show happen right. And you do the lights or whatever and the characters are litterally there and have you met the actors? Do u interact with them?? Is the magic of the show ruined for you because you see them go in and out of character???? Does it give you a different perspective on the show? If this is too much for you and you don’t want to interact with this message then ignore!!❤️❤️❤️

im a digital utility (/addt'l 2nd AC), so unless im covering one of the 2nds, i basically just set up all the teradek receivers/monitors so the directors, the DP, and the makeup dept can see wats happening on set without having to be on set (i change A Lot of batteries too)

and ykno, as far as the magic goes, the show had alredy sort of...stopped being as intense of an obsession for me as it used to be b4 i got the job on set, so it ended up being a somewhat natural shift once i got to see behind the curtain

like, dont get me wrong, i still have Mental Issues lmao, i am still not normal abt it, but it used to be so so so much worse nd th show rly consumed basically 100% of my headspace almost nonstop

so because i had kinda wound down b4 getting to work on set, it like...? it revived my love ig? but n a new way, w a new outlook that im happy to have. like, theres ben a change in energy n th past couple seasons anyways, so its felt p normal stepping into it in a new way too

that being said, i will just drop some old tags here:

[brood-mother]

lmaoooo just remembered that one weirdo on my bg3 sideblog that compared me to blaire white bc i'm bi but don't personally like m/f shipping