#so routine is fecked

[eternaldark-a]

i have three multis, lowkey want a solo but idk who

[thetruearchmagos]

Should I let the response to my posts decide what I focus on writing and posting?

[dduane]

In the digital art dep't...

Lighting test.

I'm presently tearing apart the primitively kitbashed "royal bedchamber" set I've been working with in Daz Studio and rebuilding it with newer, higher-resolution materials. Changing the windows and walls, replacing the furniture, customizing it (those Celtic knotwork motifs in the headboard aren’t terrible but need to be replaced with something more suitable to this space and culture), working on the linens, trying to beat the new pre-squooshed pillows into submission. And most infuriatingly of all: discovering HOW FECKING DIFFICULT IT IS TO SET UP SPOONING POSES IN THIS DAMN APP.

...You'd think it'd be simple, wouldn't you. No one's moving, no fancy positions with a lot of sword-swinging going on, no unaccommodating clothing to work around. [insert hollow laughter here] ...Yeah, no. :/ Getting it all to look natural is a serious PIA in Daz: conveying the sag and slump of relaxation is particularly challenging when none of the surfaces will compress, only interpenetrate, and figures will only bend in very specific ways. The above is only the most recent of numerous attempts. A placeholder, which’ll do well enough while I fix other more fixable problems.

It'd be a whole lot easier to do this in prose. Apparently, however, I'm a glutton for punishment. (Only to a certain point, though, as this is the last time for a week or so I'm going to have any time to spend on this. Tomorrow is all about packing to go to Finncon.)

One note in passing: if Dusty and Lorn look (to our eyes) a little lost in that bed, it's because in the Middle Kingdoms beds generally run bigger than in our world—due to the cultural expectation that any given bed's routinely likely to have more, indeed lots more, than just two people in it. Royal marriages are as liable to this as any others; so the dimensions of the bed in the ruler's chambers aren't (idiomatically or literally) kingsized, but just normal.

...Also normal, for Arlen, is all that marble. The area was volcanic once, so the stone's easy to come by and much used for vernacular architecture (the way basalt is in Darthen, for similar reasons).

[skippyv20]

To unemployed for years anon - yup, same here anon. Unemployed as a feck, too. I’ve been rejected several times. 😆 Just a few months ago, I was so down and depressed. But, because I have a husband or a son, I keep telling myself to be brave. I keep reminding myself this situation is not permanent. What keeps me sane also is Skippy’s blog. This is my day and night routine. I used to skip the inspirational/ religious stuff, but now, I read all. Nobody gives a feck if I say awkward or something. Keep it going anon, know that you are not alone. Keep posting or writing, you are anonymous, anyway but not invisible.

Thank you!  I love the fact you mention she is not invisible!  Yes!  That is the message for all!  I am so happy to hear you read everything now!  Also, everything you send in is so appreciated!  You are quite a presence here!  Hugs…🙂❤️

[that-stone-butch]

Different kinds of bow limbs? You're talking my kinda language! I haven't shot in maybe 4 years since Dad died (it was something we did together) but I loved the technical side of bow tuning, arrow spine, fletching, all that good stuff. My main set were 34lb short uukha carbon fibre limbs but I got a gorgeous second hand set of 40lb medium win&win inno ex powers which I tragically never got to fully tune.

What kind of limbs do you favour? And what kind of archery? I've tried (and enjoyed!) target, field and even clout!

Since I'm fuzzy/tipsy enough (rough day) to decide replying to tags is appropriate, I've never had tiktok, am training as a volunteer run leader to give back to my social running club, fecking hate washing up and am currently trying to perfect veggie casseroles. I have a spy fiction book on loan from a colleague as we are both trying to make our way through the Jackson lamb series, though she is more keen than I, and duolingo is a necessary evil in the pursuit of basic French since my closest family are planning to retire out there.

What are you learning/studying at the moment?

so i haven't done any archery since i was a kid; most of my research about archery is pre-research before getting back into it sometime in the near future when i have the free time and disposable income. i mostly shot target when i was younger, with a simple but reliable takedown recurve. but it's something i'd like to get serious about some day, and i'd love to pick your brain on it sometime, if you're open to it. hit me up sometime and we'll chat ☺️

right now i'm mostly brushing up on electrical info preparing for my union program's placement test later this summer. i have a bit of experience in the field and in classes and it would be nice to start smartly ahead of some of the redundant classwork in my union's apprenticeship program.

i do know some french, though i'm woefully out of practice. i studied in high school but learning bits and pieces of other languages has pushed it out of the forefront of the Language I Spent A Lot Of Time Learning real estate in my brain meat.

i also am trying very hard to get back into running (full shifts of construction, followed by weightlifting regimen, followed by routine running, gets a little tiresome day after day. but i'm trying!) and i love it. never did it as part of school, or part of a club, so i bet i'm doing it all wrong, but i feel fantastic and that's all that matters to me 😁

have a great night/day, drink plenty of water!

[crystallinee-waters]

Absolutely agree with you on watching Balalaika’s morning routine, and it blows my mind as well that there is no HM spin-off! What’s even weirder is that there are already Sawyer and Eda spin-off mangas, so it’s not like spin offs have never been done before for BL, like Hiroe just give us a Balalaika one fecking hell

Yeah fr, definitely agree there, there is so much to explore with her, it's a real shame. Luckily, this fandom has many fanfics exploring Balalaika's core issues these days, with various takes that are all so interesting, tbh after writing so much about her and trying to see everything from her POV, I'm not sure what I would make of Hiroe's full depiction of it, but it would still be so interesting.

[cafeacademia]

𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐞

𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐑𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: When Spencer's favourite cafe closes, he finds a new place to visit for his morning coffee ritual only he stumbles across a cafe that is home to another regular who just so happens to like playing chess. And just maybe he makes a move, on the board and the pretty girl that plays chess.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: None, just soft fluff. Small mention of slight injury, but it's nothing bad. Reader is soft and sweet and shy, some worry and concern towards the end but it's a pretty pure fic

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: Approx 2.2k

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: Hello, it has been a loooong time! Please let me know what you think of this, feedback is super appreciated! I had a lot of fun writing this and I've been sitting on this idea for MONTHS, feck knows why it took me so long to write it 😅 anyway, it's here now, enjoy!

Spencer was not best pleased. The cafe he usually visited on his way to work, at lunch times and then after work had shut down, seemingly overnight. There had been no suggestion of it happening and when he had visited just the previous day, business was doing as well as usual, which for a central area, it was packed. But now the door was locked, lights off and paper signs were plastered over the windows with capital letters reading CLOSED DOWN, NO LONGER IN BUSINESS.

Where was Spencer supposed to get coffee now? Of course, there was the Starbucks at the end of the road on the corner, but their coffee was not quite right for his taste. He wasn’t willing to sacrifice his daily coffee ritual with vending machine coffee either. Spencer would have rather just drink mildly tepid milk over the acidic vending machine coffee that had punctual notes of cardboard and was far too watered down to even resemble coffee.

Okay, so maybe he’d become a bit of a coffee snob. Though, Spencer wasn’t sure that snob was really the right word here. In any case, not just any cafe would do. It wasn’t just the coffee he was looking for. He needed a cafe that felt nice to sit in, that felt nice to read while he was in the queue and if he had time, to sit in a corner and read and people watch.

But as he wandered a bit further away from work, Spencer reached the end corner of the road. He’d never been this way before. It was always straight from the subway to the cafe and then straight up the street to work. Peering around the corner, he saw a little sign in the shape of a coffee cup. Outside were a couple of covered wooden market stalls and from where he stood, it looked like they were crammed tightly with books.

With a quick glance at his watch, Spencer decided he had plenty of time to check it out and he was thankful that he’d been too much into his audiobook that morning to realise that he had left far too early for work.

Taking quick strides down the street, it began to rain as he made his way towards the cafe. The clouds darkened and with impeccable timing, Spencer made it underneath the cafe awning just in time before the rain came down in torrential sheets. The coffee shop was open and as he pulled the door to enter, he was suddenly pulled into the warm comforting vibe of the cafe. Oh, this is perfect, thought Spencer. There were quite a few customers, but everyone was quiet and going about their morning routines, drinking coffee and reading newspapers, books and enjoying the cafe. It was heavy on the book theme and there were shelves of used books everywhere in the shop. There was a sign above the largest bookshelf that read, take a book and leave a note in it for the next reader.

There were large, yellow lights strung along the far brick wall and it gave the most wonderful cosy feeling as Spencer took it all in. “Good morning sir, would you like to order anything?” There was an older man behind the counter. He had the most fantastic beard and it looked like he kept it in great condition, just like the cafe he worked in. Spencer didn’t think he’d ever seen such a well kept and well loved cafe before. “Uh, hi. Can I get a cappuccino please?” He asked as he approached the counter, giving the guy a tight lipped smile and as he reached into the inner breast pocket of his coat. “Sure, anything else?” He asked. “A croissant please.” And Spencer handed him the money as he looked around.

Spencer noticed as he was waiting for his coffee that behind him was a girl sitting at a table fairly close to him. She was beautiful. She had her hair tucked behind her ear as she concentrated hard on something. Spencer looked down at her table and realised that in front of her was a very small travel chess set and she was playing against herself. For a moment, while the sounds of the coffee grinder filled the shop, Spencer observed her, watched as she made a couple of moves.

It was interesting, he thought as he watched her. But as he did, he saw a good opening for a move on her board and he wondered if she’d take it. She’d paused her movements for a moment and Spencer thought she must have been thinking hard about her next move, but when he cast a quick glance up, he realised that she was looking right back at him with a rather curious little smile on her lips. In a sudden spark of confidence, Spencer stepped over to her table. “Sorry to interrupt your game, it’s very compelling, but you see if you make this move,” Spencer said, reaching out for the piece and when he saw that she was watching him with great interest, he proceeded. “You’re set to win the game after your opponent’s next move.” He said, moving the piece and watching as the smile on her face grew.

“Hm, interesting.” She spoke quietly. “I would have done this, though.” She said softly, undoing his move and immediately winning the game using a move that Spencer remembered seeing in one of the chess handbooks he’d read through before but never actually seen in practice. “Impressive.” Spencer nodded. “Thank you for letting me try, you’re good.” He said, turning away when the barista told him that his coffee was ready. “Thank you.” She replied. Spencer was eager to stay and chat to the pretty chess girl, but one quick glance at his watch told him that Hotch was going to have him if he lingered in the cafe for much longer. With a quick smile at her, he rushed off with his coffee and his croissant, hoping that his pastry wouldn’t get too soaked in the pouring rain as he rushed down the street to work.

The next day came and Spencer headed down to the same cafe. He wasn’t sure that he would see the pretty chess girl again, but as he entered the coffee shop, she was there, just like yesterday and it was almost as if she hadn’t moved at all. She sat at the same table with the same drink and the same book at the side of her with the same chess set. The only difference was the position of the pieces on the board and the clothes she wore.

“Hello, can I take your order?” The barista greeted him. Spencer ordered and the sound of his voice caught the girl’s attention. Looking up from her chess game she watched him. Almost like she was waiting for him to notice her. Just when she was about to make her next move, Spencer turned around after dropping some extra change from his wallet onto the counter as a tip. “Do you have time for a move again?” She asked, almost timidly. “I think I have time for one or two.” Spencer beamed at her, stepping towards her table and observing her board before he made his first move. “What’s your name?” He asked while he watched her make her move. She waited until she had moved her knight before she replied with her name. Her voice was soft and quiet. It made him feel warm and cosy and he wanted to listen to her more. She sounded sweet, oh he had an innate urge to tell her she was pretty. But Spencer resisted. “And what about you?” She asked. “Spencer.” He replied. “It’s nice to meet you.” He smiled, making his next move on the board. “It’s nice to meet you too, Spencer.” She mirrored his smile and he wasn’t sure he’d ever felt that warm and soft before. The way she said his name, so sweet and soft in her voice, sent butterflies through him.

“Is this your new morning stop?” She asked softly. “Yep, just down the road from work.” He told her. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow then, Spencer.” She smiled up at him, meeting his eyes and he grinned back at her. “See you tomorrow.” He nodded before turning away to collect his coffee and walking away.

There was no denying in the days that followed that Spencer had a new air about him. “What’s got you all smitten Reid? You’ve been coming into work with a huge smile the last few days.” Morgan made the observation first. “Oh it’s nothing.” Spencer said, waving it off. “Mhm, nothing.” Morgan teased in a sarcastic tone. “Something nice about changing coffee shops, y’know?” Spencer told him. “You’re weird, kid.”

Spencer continued his routine of visiting the cafe every morning, making one or two moves on her chess board, exchanging some nice conversation with her before grabbing his coffee and heading off to work. This went on for over a week until his routine was disrupted with a case in another state and Spencer suddenly disappeared from her routine.

She had gotten used to him coming in and playing chess with her. She thought the first time that he didn’t show up that he just hadn’t had the time that day. But when he didn’t show up several days running, she thought that maybe Spencer had found a different cafe to go to or maybe he didn’t enjoy their conversation as much as she thought he did.

There was something about Spencer that drew her to him. He was sweet and kind and quiet like her. He was good at chess too and he was very handsome. His hair was pretty, his face even prettier. She found herself almost breathless at the thought of him. But she worried he might not come back to the little cafe again.

A week passed. A few more days went by and then suddenly, one morning in the pouring rain, just like the first day he had come into the cafe, Spencer stepped into the coffee shop. He was a bit damp from the run between the subway and the cafe, but still just as pretty. She looked up at him as he walked in, curious at his quick entrance and then concerned when she noticed the cuts along his eyebrow and cheek on one side of his face.

Spencer didn’t even need to order, the barista knew what Spencer wanted and went about making his usual order. “You’re back.” She spoke softly. “I am, I’m sorry I disappeared. I wanted to tell you but it was quite sudden.” He sighed. “What happened? Why are you hurt?” She asked. Spencer chewed on his lip for a moment, mulling over what to tell her. He looked at his watch. He had more than enough time today, he wasn’t due for the post case briefing for another forty minutes. Taking his coffee from the barista, he pulled the seat out opposite the girl and sat down. “I’m an FBI agent, I had to go to a different state to work on a case.” He explained quietly. “Oh.” Was all she replied with and Spencer thought for a moment that it had scared her to know that detail of his life. “Oh, well that makes so much more sense.” She smiled, giggling softly. “No wonder you are always in a rush.” She teased.

A comfortable silence formed and she watched him with soft, kind eyes. “Does it hurt?” She asked. “A little, I’ve had worse though.” He reassured her and she only smiled in response. She didn’t want to imagine the worse he had endured. “I’m glad you’re okay.” It was almost a whisper. “I was worried.” Her voice dropped and it had almost been inaudible. “You were worried?” Spencer asked. She nodded softly. “I’m right here and I have more time today, we can play a full game, if you want to?” Spencer asked. “I’d like that.” She nodded, tears coming to her eyes and Spencer realised just how important he’d become to her, as much as she had become to him too.

“You know what? I’ll make you a deal” Spencer said quietly. “What’s that?” “If I win this, I get to ask you anything. If you win, you get to ask me anything you want.” Spencer proposed. She thought on it for a moment and then finally agreed with a nod and a smirk. “Deal.”

They played, sipping coffee between moves until they were at the last part of the game. She looked like she might win, but before Spencer took his final move, he took one last look at her possible moves and realised he could use something he’d never done before against her. Pulling the move she had shown him on their very first meeting, Spencer looked up at her, smiled and said, “checkmate.” “Oh, well played mister Reid.” She giggled. “So, what will your question be?” She asked. He paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts before looking over at her with a soft smile.

“Will you go on a date with me?” He asked. “I’d like nothing more.” She replied. “Now, tell me more about that job of yours.” “You gotta win a question.” He reminded her playfully. “I can beat you in five turns.” She boasted, raising laughter out of Spencer. “You’re on.” 

𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐄𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐨𝐟 @/𝐭𝐞𝐚-𝐚𝐭-𝐭𝐡𝐞-𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐜𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐩 𝐨𝐧 𝐓𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐫. 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝, 𝐫𝐞𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐞𝐛𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐞.

[obaewankenope]

I remember in college (16-18yrs old) my ancient history professor put my name in for the AQA Extended Project Qualification without asking me and told me about it afterwards. I was 17, clearly Gifted from the outset, and she pegged me as the student in her class who'd do the work for it because she Expected It Of Me.

The thing is, she didn't mean any of it cruelly or meanly. She genuinely thought it was a good thing, that I'd enjoy it, and that it would be a good challenge for me when I was clearly more than capable of completing the coursework and classwork she set with ease.

And she wasn't wrong. But she didn't ask me and I ended up having to spend several months working on this thing around existing classes, home life being a mess, my own mental health being a wreck, and not one teacher realised I had any problems at all.

I had to fill out a journal regularly of Community Work I did like packing bags and stuff to show "community mindset", research my chosen subject, create draft proposals for it, speak to tutors outside of class time to hash it out, attend extra classes on civics and stuff for the qualification and so much more it was unreal.

I had to write a 5k paper on my subject topic, deliver a presentation, proposal, display board for the examiners to look at and ask me questions about which I had to answer and not feck up at the time.

As well as keep my grades up.

And the worst thing. Thee worst thing. It was easy.

It was easy because I could focus on that rather than my mental health, than my home life, than my relationship issues, than all those other things I should have been working on but didn't have the time because I didn't want to disappoint my tutor who signed me up for this whole thing without asking me because she believed in me.

And I aced the thing. I genuinely did.

I aced my classes, except sciences because well something had to give and definitions of things were what I kicked out of my head at the time (I no longer can tell you how to calculate speed and velocity correctly rip).

I was the gifted kid from childhood who was compared to her struggling brother with his adhd and his learning difficulties and behavioural problems, who was well behaved and polite and smart and not a problem in the classroom ever (except when I chose to be).

And that bullshit dragged with me into university where, honestly, I burned myself up. I established a routine sure, but the first week of uni I had a full on emotional breakdown bc I locked myself out of my room and my drunk flatmates all consoled me because everything, and I mean everything, just came down on me at that moment.

I picked myself back up, went to classes and passed everything. Even stats. Though not really because honestly I just didn't get what the tutor was saying and she didn't explain once.

(And I felt so ashamed of that stats class result, it was hilarious. Especially when I had to redo it in the summer which was just horrid for this Gifted Kid to suddenly be struggling).

I have two degrees, an undergraduates and a masters, I have 5 a-levels and 2 as levels. I have all the gcses my school offered that I took and didn't fail any of them.

I am smart. But I struggled so much in university. Not for taking notes, I used my laptop and relied on the tutors power points to add info to, but with everything else because I hadn't been given support where I needed it.

I am superficial and charming on the surface because I have spent a lifetime masking all my problems and troubles and being the good student who doesn't cause trouble even when they want to just get up and scream. The depths of me are seen more online than in person because y'all don't expect me to be charming and to smile and to express social cues I had to consciously learn on my own because not one adult thought I needed help there.

This is the curse of being a gifted kid.

Especially one who gets diagnosed at 28 with adhd who could have done so much more at 22 on adhd medication because things would have been easier. Help would have been available.

Because when you're just Autistic. When you have Aspergers. When you're High Functioning. You're just Smart And Awkward and written off as fine.

I suffered so much for no reason other than a flawed system that overworks its employees, doesn't fund the things it should fund enough, and leaves kids like me, who show accelerated growth in quantifiable areas of statistical measurement but who need help with other areas, to suffer alone.

There's a reason so many Gifted kids end up diagnosed as neurodivergent. It's because we're smart in one way that means everything else about us is ignored.

The Problem Kids I saw in high school (11-16) were some of the smartest kids I've ever met. But because they struggled with maths, with spelling, with reading, and other things, they got ignored, or babied, or told off when they got bored and grew tired of being ignored and not praised like the Gifted Kids at least got.

One of those kids, Tom, he genuinely was so smart. He wrote a whole ass English paper the day before it was due and he got an amazing mark because he had actually listened to me explaining stuff next to him in class, even when he fucked around throwing erasers about, or doodling, and I went through things in a way he understood because that helped me too.

Like.

He's Gifted. He's smart. But he got called a Problem Kid because of disruptive behaviour. Because he drew attention to himself, good or bad, because he didn't want to be ignored and because the subject didn't Interest Him.

I learned a lot in school because I loved learning. That's why I did well. I loved to just soak up knowledge. I still do. The fact that the knowledge I enjoyed learning was information relevant to standardised tests is the only, The Only, reason I got labelled as Gifted and not Problem or Ignorant.

My mother is smart. She loves horses. She Loves To Learn About Horses. Always has. School for her was a story of Not Trying, Not Paying Attention, Not Able To Understand. Because it didn't Interest her. It didn't engage.

But she's Gifted too.

She's forgotten more about horses than I'll ever know. And I know a lot.

Intelligence isn't just MENSA tests and pattern recognition and that bs used to evaluate how smart someone is in a psychological assessment.

Intelligence, true intelligence, is being able to share what you know with others in a way they can understand. That's true intelligence.

And I know a lot of Gifted Kids, Problem Kids, Ignorant Kids, Daydreamers, and Drop-Outs who are intelligent because of that fact alone.

So fuck the lack of support for gifted kids and other kids. Fuck the idea that kids can be categorised as smart and not smart. Fuck the mentality that if you're not good at your countries language and maths that you're "stupid". Fuck it all.

We're all fucking geniuses and I won't have anyone tell y'all different.

And we support each other as a result. Got that.

[smilingformoney]

1, 4, 7, 19, 22 for the WIP ask game !!

1. Do you have an outline for your WIP, or are you making it up as you go?

Yes to both 🤣 I have a vague outline, I know what I want to happen around certain events and what I want to lead up to in the end. but some of the more filler stuff I make up as I go and it just sort of pops up organically. Also, to get pedantic, all fiction is made up as it goes along 😜

4. What percentage of your WIP do you think you have done so far?

Quite frankly I have no idea. I don’t intend to go much further on after seventh year but feck knows what I’ll decide to do in the future. So 🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️

7. What does your creative routine look like?

This

19. What is a favorite line of dialogue so far?

This is one I like from my most recent chapter, since it’s the freshest in my mind:

“I feel like if people saw you - really saw you - and then said I was just like you… well, I wouldn’t mind it so much.”

22. What is a spoiler you can give us for something incredibly insignificant in your WIP?

Bill hands Abbie her OWL results cus she’s in the garden at the Burrow when they arrive

[yostresswritinggirl]

FINALLY

FINALLY

Cleared my inbox, thank you and sorry for the fans with notifs on, I know some of you unfollow me because of my post floods and honestly - SAME

I'mma start preparing more fics for various charas as well as go back to my routines, while we're at it, I am also spiralling into Dainsleif brainrot. His quest gave me so much material despite being so short, feck. For those wondering, I'm grinding more for Xiao, no mercy till we get that edgy baby- on other news, Hu Tao's namecard is in game, so she might actually come sooner than I expected. Anywho, spoilers under the cut—

I'm a sucker for pretty boys :((

[soniabigcheese]

A quick update from what happened last weekend.

Under the cut, just in case it offends some people. And NOT looking for validation, just stating the facts as they happened. Oh and a bit of swearing

As some of you were well aware, Saturday and Sunday were particularly troublesome for me. Hubby usually takes me to work after his shift, however, they'd changed the rota, so he couldn't.

That meant booking a taxi. When I was driving, I knew when to leave the house, how long the journey would take ...

yadda yadda yadda

Taxi was late. And decided to take a detour. Which cut it really close for me getting into work. (we have a clocking in system, highlights when you are early/late. Late ... even for just one minute and your pay is docked 15 minutes. Leave early, same thing)

Anyways, that was the start of things.

It got worse from there.

I normally have 5-10 minutes to make a cuppa, organise a few things... set up my routine etc. But couldn't do that, so I just switched on the roller press so that it would heat up ready to iron the bed linen. Then I went and made my cuppa.

I came back, didn't notice anything wrong. Half an hour after that, I saw that the roller press wasn't working so I switched it off and texted the person who was on laundry duty through the week to ask her advice.

What I got back was ... maintenance is coming in, he'll sort it out. Can you use the iron for the heavier creased items?

Okay

That's when the deputy manager poked her head around the door and asked if I'd switched the 'iron' on. I didn't know which one she was talking about so I said no, then yes but it wasn't working so I turned it off.

I then went to another socket to plug in the little iron ....

Nothing. Not even the radio was working.

So I text back to say that the iron wasn't working.

response back ... it's tripped the mains

Now what?

Anyways, I struggled the best I could, thankful that the washers and dryers were on an independent mains power. And maintenance guy turns up.

This .... is what really REALLY pissed me off

He told me that they knew that the roller press was broken and tripping the electrics through the week. And they're trying to get a new one

If that was the case ....

WHY THE FECK DIDN'T THEY UNPLUG SAID BROKEN MACHINE, SLAP AN OUT OF ORDER SIGN ON IT AND LEAVE A NOTE?

And that explains my highly stressed out and pissed off mood.

I swear, common sense fled out of one of the windows as soon as it had the opportunity

[dwestfieldblog]

A VERY REMOTE ENGLISH TEACHER

Where meditations, rants, reverie and absent seizures cross over... closer to one gun with one bullet, the rose of ruby and the cross of gold...uff, and MENTACIDE IN THE TIME OF MASQUES. Although I have never suffered from the guilty masochistic torture of ‘pleasure anxiety’, Bacchus hath indeed drowned more men than Neptune.  So I stopped drinking for 18 days to fool myself I was doing something positive and threw away enough things to be minimalist again. Arf. Beauty and/or function uber alles.  

Been treading water for three years and trying not to drown...big round of one hand clapping for the former poet. Meanwhile, in this temporary world and perception I have created of it, I am looking at a very possible exile one way or the other...my ‘plan’...a long phased withdrawal or hasty retreat. My wish is to stay, but once I leave, it might well be very hard to return.  Read as many metaphors as you want into that but in spite of my dislike of the conservatively minded Aristotle’s ‘either/or’ nonsense, there do indeed appear to be only two this time. And appear is the operative word. Appearances can be deceptive and emotions (unless raised and focused) cloud over what should be clear. Pain has a tendency to breed worry and fear too but let’s draw a veil over that for now eh? Suppress, suppress, release comes later...breathe deep and try not to cough, onward we go where the game gets rough...Just like Tom Thumbs Blues 65.  

Remember Roman Protasevich...As Lukasenko himself said...‘Belarus stood at the edge of an abyss and I helped it take a step forward’. Look good on your tombstone that will Al. Fecking outrageous the Indian PM only admitted in May that covid was transmitted in the air. He needs removing... as do two thirds of all the other world leaders East and West. Hello Bollsanaro. People are very easy to manipulate when they’re are scared or angry...and right now the world majority are both. But, ‘there is a crack in everything... that’s how the light gets in’... and ‘things could change’, doesn’t have to be for the worse. It can take decades to realise this as actual truth, but still nice to read and try internalise the following last week.’The odds actually favour the optimists, since dissipate structures are more likely to evolve into more information rich (intelligent?) forms than into primitive or chaotic forms.’ All my friends bar my best one are optimists..Hello you:-)

Ever onward deeper downward with Orban in Hungary and his mission of ‘Christian values’, which involves a familiar routine of arresting, beating and disappearing dissenters in the name of Christ and taking over the universities to replace professors with those who understand on which side their bread is buttered. Decent judges long gone. Nice fascist communism...and ex soldiers in France and the Czech republic warning of civil war...

And now spiraling we go into the black hole vortex of Disaster capitalism, ‘Let the bodies pile high’. There’s gold in them thar ills....ISLAND PARANOIA and PERFIDIOUS ALBION! A country which demands a contract, agrees, signs to it and then refuses to honour it. We look worse than ridiculous, we look deceitful. Gentlemen, your places please. Boris Johnson is a clumsy, inept, disgraceful charlatan, con merchant and LIAR. A blustering master bullshit artist, the only decent thing about his recent secret wedding is that now he legally has one less bastard child.  

Recently I read that British people are displaying signs of Stockholm syndrome...in that they dislike those who hold power over them and make the rules but during the time of pandemic, they are the ones who will release the saviour vaccine and get everything moving again. So rather than rocking the boat and daring to express dissent at the DIABOLICAL handling of the last 18 months, they have mostly kept quiet and voted for the same endlessly failing, corrupt and venal politicians who made a bad situation far worse. (That said, it bears repeating that there are a few million in the UK who didn’t quite understand that that the spread of a highly contagious airborne virus can be slowed by the wearing of masks/applying basic hygiene and even took offence at being told what should have made sense to any adult homo SAPIENS half capable of cogitating for themselves. Morons and scum. Same where you are?

By the way BBC...the colossal dearth of stories about the endless government failures in relation to Covid, death, corruption and the NHS...ever since they blackmailed you with threats of revoking the TV licence fee and got you to change Directors has been noted. Long may Have I Got News For You continue the satire and balance needed in a DEMOCRACY. Obey your public servants? Why, when they do not serve few but themselves? Power OF the people? Which ones...the mob? The same bleating pricks who follow populists?

Four eyed beanpole fop Rees Mogg, with his wonderful line that the benefits of Brexit will be seen ‘over the next fifty years’...well yes, that is why most people vote in democratic elections eh?...So they will be dead or ancient before the change they hoped for comes...and the politicians who lead them now, will have all long moved on to revolving door chairman of the board offshore limited liability company paradise. Bread today jam tomorrow fairytales. What I tell you three times is true.  

O, but the English do so love to be told what to do by dumb posh boys who treat them like dirt. Some are forelock tugging and some are self flagellating middle class upper class wannabes who will never get there but still feel proud they are not street level proles. Doby the house elf alien hamster Michael Gove found guilty of breaking the law. Nothing. Internal inquiries run by those connected to the money changing hands find nothing illegal. Corruption for all to see...and ignore. ‘Well, what can we do?’ The uselessly inept serial failure Dido Harding to be in charge of the National Health Service? (she of the collapsed Woolworths, Talk Talk and the 22 BILLION pound loss of the Covid Track and Trace program where non working consultants/insultants, were paid 1000 pounds a day). American style privatisation is coming where only the wealthy or criminal can afford to be repaired and well. Sick.  

Meanwhile, All our imported nurses out, and all the lobster red fat Spanish costa de la sol criminals back in. Great exchange, fair trade and forward thinking. The Kremlin are manipulating/supporting Scottish independence... I read years ago about their base in Edinburgh for Russia Today (the foul insert in The Daily Telegraph) and they were already encouraging it. Rees Smug has accelerated and supported their freedom with his snobbish utterances on countries in the UK other than England and their ‘foreign languages’. With every patronising, arrogant pronouncement, the Eton trifles fuel the fire in Scotland which has a long bitter history of being tortured, murdered and subjugated by their southern masters. Perhaps the chumocracy in Downing Street believe the Celts to be as easily cowed as the middle and working classes down south. Here’s hoping not. ‘Rebellious Scots to crush’? Not this time pal.

As for the future of Britain? A dystopian open prison where the lower social classes toil only at the pleasure of their masters. The higher caste getting richer and all others cast into a living Hell of debt, crime, and sickness. Serve until you die and be thankful we allow you to exist. Increasing in utter irrelevance to the world, other than as an example of how wrong a former democracy can go. This future started decades ago...its baobab roots truly deep now. Better education and critical thinking for the masses in the UK (or anywhere else) is highly unlikely now. Optimism huh? As long as I am not in England, I will still be able to tap into it, but once enclosed long term in the group mind there...trapped in a grey quagmire. Keep smiling...

Several weeks ago, I watched a video on YT of apparently English protestors running after the police in London, some attacking and throwing things, one pulling off the pandemic mask of an officer and all shouting abuse at the outnumbered cops who had to keep pulling back. As always, to get my caffeine rush of fury going, I read the comments and was surprised to see two or three from Chinese names. Almost all comments were against the government (fair enough) and dumb against the lock down, masks, vaccinations etc. Checking again, I saw the video had been posted by CGTN...a media company owned and run by the communist party in Beijing...and not one author of diatribes had mentioned this, nor speculated with a critical thought as to why such an organisation might enjoy turning people against their own democratically elected government (however mind rippingly foul and corrupt they are).

I copy pasted the Wikipedia paragraph about the company onto the page and hoped someone else would make the connection. I wouldn’t mind so much IF there were a credible and decent alternative other than the diseased populist poison for which the demonstrating goons chant. China really cares about the standard of democracy in Britain eh? Persuade your enemies to weaken themselves. Destroying countries by encouraging their ‘patriots’.

(That was written on the anniversary of Tienanmen Square...a few days later Xi Jinping gave a speech saying ‘...a lovable and respectable’ China must be presented to the world and must ‘expand its circle of friends’. Tell that to your teenage ‘dissidents’, Muslims, Falun Gong and Tibetans being tortured and brainwashed in prisons or being used for organ harvesting. Tell it to Hong Kong and Taiwan.) 

Unholy America...against abortion and the pill, sex education’s not Gods will and in the Name of Christ they kill...if truth be known, we’ve failed the test...but Jesus was a Socialist and Republican conservatives hate them. The founding fathers of America were Very clear about separation of church and state with damn good Reason. Another part time Christian, Mike Pompeo wants to be president. Q Onan deepstorm morons/Kremlin stool pigeons aka POLEZNYYE IDIOTY continue to push for Trump and his Big Lie...He with the brain where ‘In the left, nothing is right and in the right, nothing’s left.’ Arf.

Over the last two decades, the dumb have been finding their voice and are now louder and prouder of their dumbass ignorance. 74 million in the US alone, their egos unable to retreat in the face of endless evidence to the contrary, they all double down. Like children sticking their fingers in their grimy ears sing songing ‘la la la can’t hear you’. 74 million versions of Eric Cartman, loud, proud and wrong. And uuff, Megan Markle,  Majorie Taylor Greene, walking Picasso collage (bad car driver) Caitlin Jenner and Ivana Trump in politics...not exactly holding a proud lantern for women eh? I’d like to buy them for what they are worth and sell them for what they think they are worth. Not very PC?  

That was the point. Could easily been written about all of the men written about here too. Next examples follow...

Tucker Carlson and Alex Jones compete for who can be as mentally ill as trump. The Miami school where the husband and wife directors told teachers not to return if they had HAD their vaccine shots because their proximity to students was interfering with menstrual cycles and uuuufff...The sickness of utter mind buggering stupidity. I had my first shot, now waiting to turn reptilian when the 5G masts triangulate my position. Fnord. Covid appears to be killing more overweight meat eating males than females...perhaps testosterone is not useful for the coming Race of non binary mutant hermaphrodites...and look out for the end of the Y chromosome, coming to a temporary universe near you...in 4.6 million years. Yes, really.  

Glad Netanyahu is out at last, smug corruption is never a good look unless one is a rich criminal. Ha.  The Promised land of Israel...If I was in court for serial murder, breaking, entering and stealing and then defended my actions by saying that God had told me to do it, would the Judge; A. Call for a psychiatric report, B. Disregard the statement as unprovable and pass the appropriate sentence, C, say Ok mate, you’re free to go, good luck to you. ? Moses had a good schtick.

The law is only to punish the poor, do you feel as if you suffer from empathy? Once you know, you no longer need to believe. What does ‘reality’ seem to be? The more certain you are, the stupider you get and belief is the death of intelligence. The machine is running the engineers. What is the definition of rationality...the quality of being based on or in accordance with reason or logic. 

Nothing is, but thinking makes it so. Epicurus.  

EVERYTHING NOT COMPULSORY IS FORBIDDEN.

The glamour illusion of the mass of pointless hot influencers needs a constant renewing of the Banishing Ritual as much as all the pigslop bile coming from Fox News and Sky. Bloody long haired commie liberal faggot they cry against any not identical to them. Some days I have only flamethrowers of hatred for these idiots. Other days...not exactly self doubt, just questions...most of us seem to believe our opinions are more valid when there are emotions connected to them. Including me. Again, this seems like a very weak version of ‘truth’, unless disciplined, channeled and focused to a certain end.

Life appears to exist in order to become via chaos.

Most of us are working only not to be homeless, some because of the joy in our chosen work regardless of finances. Until ‘reality’ kicks in the door...the bondage gets tighter when you struggle. How much hardship is the individual willing to endure these days by choice? Surrounded by a universe of distraction and destruction, Maya mewling for our attention. Five years of Trump, rampant populism and Brexit doing a Hexagram 23 on democracy, compounded by the pandemic...all on top of ‘normal’ daily life. The ego feeds and the immune system breaks down. Hard to ignore without being on a mountain or in a parallel dimension and emotion free other than compassion. But BY GODDESS IT CAN AND WILL BE DONE. Ladies of Life Nin Khursag, Isis, Kali, Aradia...Love one, Love ALL. At very least have respect for thyself but be not thou proud of thine arrogance nor thy suffering.  

Or just Remember where you came from, what you were, seem to be and will become.

Heal, heal, more work to do, more love to give, more love to feel, Heal. Stay in drugs, eat your school and don’t do vegetables. Impose your own reality upon and through yourself, breathe, exhale, repeat, and continue, LOVE UNDER WILL. Experience and absorb but ‘It’s a house of tricks, ignore the world’’.

Stay well, be seeing you:-)

[imthederpyfox]

I can't sleep because everytime I sleep my wisdom tooth area swells up and when it becomes too painful I wake up again and have to start the routine of waiting for it to settle;

- drink water

- take ibuprofen for the swelling and to numb pain

- clean area just in case, though i know its clean

- rinse out mouth with freezing cold water

- sit with something very cold on face for ages until almost losing feeling on outside of face

- want to cry out of frustration when its still hurting

- swirl cold water in mouth again, leaving it there for a while this time

- repeat the above 3 steps as many times as it takes until it starts to take effect along with the ibuprofen

- sit there exhausted because its 4:58 am and I want to sleep but fecking can't because it'll all start back up again

Honestly just ignore this if you see it, I just needed to rant.

It hurts when I swallow.

This happens every so often but I've not had it this bad in a while...

[maximumninjavoid]

Mining for Unobtanium Chapter 23

It got eaten. Like the post was there but there was NO TEXT.

 I screamed. I really did.  This was a good chapter, I thought.

Well Feck. Good think I’m slightly compulsive.

Adults only 18 and over. Adult themes, teh secks and stuff.

Un Beta’d we die like my dreams ( too dark? )

At some point I , we must have passed out or fallen asleep. There he was, larger than life and in my bed, and I was surrounded by him. The perfect big spoon, arms wrapped around me, leg thrown over my hip,I felt petite, and I assure you, I am not. I could have stayed there forever. My bladder however had different ideas, and the lingerie, while beautiful, was not my first choice to sleep in. Extraction was going to be an interesting manoeuvre. If I wiggle too much, I risk alerting The Kraken. I didn't mind a second round, or a third of he wanted to go, but right this instant? Oh my gawd, I had to pee. I managed to slide myself out of his embrace and he rolled towards where I was just a minute ago. I wanted to stop and just look at him, sleeping, but, I suppose I could do that on the way back. Necessities taken care of, and a bit of freshening up while I was dishabille, at least this way, ~should~ one of his eyes inadvertently open, I looked 'artfully messy' as opposed to just fucked up. I'd settle for freshly fucked. Did you ever see "Torch Song Trilogy"? Oh my stars. Stop what you're doing and go watch that movie. There is a hole in your cultural education if you haven't. So, it's Harvey Firestein, it's autobiographical, and you're going to need tissues. Matthew Broderick is in it. But, there's this one scene where Harvey's character sets the alarm so he can get up before his boyfriend, brush his teeth, fix his face, do his morning routine so when the boyfriend wakes up, Harvey looks amazing. I have now reached the Harvey Firestein point of my life. Henry, of course, probably ,what was the expression? Woke up like that. I slid back into bed, using his shoulder to rest my head and curled my leg up over his hip. I kissed his neck lightly and whispered "sweet dreams". It was still dark out when round two began, he may have been half asleep. Well, parts of him were. Limbs were entangled, his head on my chest and his cock making its presence known. I stretched, and kissed his head, he curled his fingers into mine and in a fraction of a second he was above me, half smiling. "I thought I had dreamt you". "Oh, I'm certain you did" and I kissed his lips. I trailed my free hand down his back and kissed him more deeply. " I'm nothing but a figment of your imagination ". I could feel his erection at the juncture of my thighs and I rolled my hips up to try and slide him into my center. He was more entertained with sliding himself along my folds and driving me mad, taking his time. He bent his head to capture a nipple in his mouth and I rolled my eyes back in my head and shuddered. "Like that, do you?" " Oh God yes. . Umm you...uhh... Have no idea" and he took it in his teeth and tortured it with his tongue and I stopped speaking, I could just moan. The scoundrel looked up at me through his lashes and smirked. Then he went to work on the other one and I began to come undone. He could feel me getting wetter and then he went balls deep in one thrust, and I came. My pussy was clenching him and pulsing and he stroked slow and deep, bottoming out with every thrust. "Figments of my imagination don't come all over my cock like that". " They do when their nipples are hard wired to their clit". He arched an eyebrow at me and didn't miss a beat, slowly sliding in and out of me, feeling the aftershocks. "Oh at this pace, I can last forever"  "You really ARE competitive. I already told you, I will not break "  He leveraged himself up slightly on one elbow, and we were kissing, and well, I wouldn't call it fucking, but that sort of sweet sleepy sex, and he really was  relentless in his pursuit of we are going to do this forever. I raised one leg to slightly change the angle, I needed more, and a little to the, OH YES.....exactly there.....I purred like a satisfied panther.... " Happy, darling? " mmm mmm right there, that's the perfect spot.... " "You mean THIS spot? and he snapped his hips and it was like lightning crossed that bundle of nerves inside me. I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. He did it again, and again until I had another orgasm and then he began to chase his own release. I buried my face in the crook of his neck and bit him as he sped up his thrusts. I had proof of his Godhood now. Even his O face is breathtakingly beautiful. Still joined together he rolled me on top of him, wrapped his arms around me and stroked my skin as I buried my face in his fur and we drifted back to sleep. I awoke to coffee. Oh. Thank every benevolent deity I could think of, no one will perish this morning. I stretched, and reveled in every ache; recalling how I had earned them. I scooted up to a sitting position, made quick work of eight ounces of coffee ( yes, it was gone in minutes) and went in search of my guest. I heard water running in the bathroom, and the door was ajar, so I looked in. Sweet baby Ganesha, there he stood, with his back to me, in the shower. Rivulets of water cascading down the planes and angles of his musculature, and I could see that I had left a mark of three of my own. With a very self satisfied smile I joined him in the shower and slid my arms around his waist, kissing his back. "Morning darling. Thank you for the magical bean juice".

He laughed and turned and kissed me. " Fey creatures surely live on potions".

I looked up at this God in human form " You're a fine one to talk about being imaginary. "

"Oh these marks aren't imaginary!" " Was that a complaint ? "

"Madam, I shall wear them as a badge of honor, for the favour of being yours". The shower rang with laughter and we washed and kissed and played probably longer than we would have had we not been in a hotel. Wrapped in a towel I offered him more coffee, poured my self some and excused myself to go out on the balcony and smoke. I know it was a smoking room, but I was working at being super considerate. He stuck his head out to ask what I was doing. "Smoking, darling boy. Smoking. So I don't inadvertently kill you."

" Come inside. It's too cold out. " 

" Darling I'm almost done and then you can warm me up. You radiate heat like a blast furnace". I put out my cigarette and as soon as I got back and closed the balcony door, I was engulfed by his warmth, and those muscles. A girl could get used to that. "So, what's on your busy schedule today mister international superstar?" He blushed. He ACTUALLY blushed. " Well, I'm going to put most of my suit back on and do the.... What's the term? Stride of pride? " I couldn't help myself. I laughed. No, scratch that. I howled. It was a belly laugh, holding my sides, I fell over on the bed, my face hurt, laughed. " God, Henry, someone has GOT to write you a fast paced comedy, you've got great comic timing!  And then? " " Well I do want to hear all about Kal's date, take him for a walk, I think I've got my cardio in, but, I'm always angling for more" and he arched that eyebrow again.

"Cheeky monkey!"

" And after that, I'm at your service. " "Have you a disguise?"

" What do you mean? "

I shook my head. " Henry, we talked about this. How in six hells are you going to explain me? It's not like we're going to go out and you're going to keep your hands off me, are you? I certainly don't want to have to keep my lips or my hands off of you.  You're in London, not Jersey."

" Look, if I can stand in Times fucking Square, in a Superman shirt and only two people stop.... "

"Darling.... That's New York. They give zero fucks. About anything. I do not want to be a cause for concern or a paparazzi problem. I don't want your PR team up my ass. We're creative. We'll figure it out. Now let me see that stride of pride. Work it! "

[silent-stalker]

4) Going for an incredibly late night walk.

Normally, Soundwave only needs a bit of time alone, typically on the Nemesis’s flight feck, using the quiet to clear his mind, to ground himself and unravel the thoughts that crowded his head. Tonight, however, it seemed the ever horribly timed Starscream of his reality was intent on using the flight deck for night training for his fliers. It had turned his usual nighttime routine into a damned mess. 

This had driven Soundwave to wander aimlessly outside of the Nemesis. He hadn’t bothered to check what country he’d landed in, and the dark mech didn’t really care. His EM field was flared out, frustration and fatigue heavy in it’s depths. 

Soundwave planned to walk down this foggy, somewhat cold human road - that was blissfully empty so far - until he’d walked his upset into nothingness and could finally sort out the state of his mind. 

[xkuraiko]

I’ve been thinking...

So, as the title suggests, I’ve been thinking. Thanks to COVID-19 making it impossible to live a normal life with school and some kind of routine and an appropriate time to go to bed, I tend to stay up late. With today posing no exception, given that it’s almost 3:45am where I live. 

And to put it bland: The thoughts I have around that time are not really the ones I wish to have, but it be like that. But just a minute ago I remembered something.

As I was scrolling through Pinterest I came across some posts about mental health and well, that suddenly reminded me how inappropriate it actually is to self-diagnose yourself with depression or an anxiety disorder just because you feel down or feel sad once in a while. One thought lead to another and I realized that I kinda did that in some of my previous posts here on tumblr, talking about my “anxiety” and my “depression” even though I’ve never been diagnosed with either one. Granted, I’ve never been to a therapist or doctor who could verify if I really suffer from one of them or both or none, that aside.

I immediately felt guilt rush over me. Because I was like “Don’t self-diagnose yourself, it’s not appropriate towards the people who have been diagnosed with it.” and in the end I self-diagnosed myself. Which wasn’t intentional. It’s just that I see those posts, talking about how people with anxiety and/or depression behave and what they could feel and I just related to some of it so much that somewhere in between I overstepped the boundary and claimed to have anxiety or depression. 

It’s not that I think that I’m just imagining things. I think that I could have anxiety and/or depression because I clearly see that I feel/do/experience scenarios very similar to people who seem to suffer from those mental illnesses, but I don’t want to diagnose myself completely without any expert verifying that. ‘Cause I feel it’s rude towards those who really suffer from mental illnesses. 

I know that most people won’t ever see this post or if they see it they won’t care because I’m just some girl who’s in no way important to them. The only “people” who’ll react in someway to this will probably be those accounts who want to advertise(?) sex with “hot girls”. Sorry to y’all but I’m not interested in those girls, could you please leave my poor and innocent (blog)self alone? I don’t wanna see a notification which in the end leads to one of those fecking bots or whatever the feck you are. If I’d wanted to see boobs so badly then I just lift my shirt and look down or look for a nice lady in the instagram comments and help her search her underwear (sarcasm).

Anyways, what I initially wanted to say with this post is sorry if I’ve offended anyone with my self-diagnosing of mental illnesses. It was never my intention to claim to have those issues as if I’d been diagnosed with them by a professional because that’s not the case. 

I promise that I’ll be more careful with my words in the future.