#Journal Task

[genderoutlaws]

A hanky code parody featured in Vol. 5 Issue 2 of Mainely Gay — the official newsletter of the Maine Gay Task Force that ran from 1974 through 1980 — by Kevin Mohr | 1978

[verdantcreek]

a wandering mind 🖊️

[palatinewolfsblog]

“The profession of journalism ought to be

about telling people what they need to know -

not what they want to know.”

Walter Cronkite.

The Art of Gravitas

(for my old Friend @acommonloon ) ...

[thepixelagora]

They went on common leave to Amsterdam, no shootouts involved this time. Soap is very proud of that joke.

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Kofi | Commissions

[coliepng]

my weekly overview system

[aurosoul]

wheeeee

[the-meme-monarch]

where’s that post about waking up from a dream and going “that was a little heavy handed w the symbolism” bc I did just have a dream like that

[mikuchan]

What about love confessions? Between our ladies - Minthara and Alfira - of course 😉 How; When; Who is the first one? What's the response? 😇💙💜

okay okay okay

This isn't exactly a love confession, but here's what I've got

733 words below the cut!

The bard, it seems to Minthara, is full of errant love. 

It’s I love you as Astarion stitches fallen jingle-bells back onto her blouse, as Karlach slings an arm around her, as Wyll presents her with a tin of colored pencils purchased from the Last Light’s quartermaster. I love you to the dog and the owlbear, to the urchin children as they giggle and scoff in return. She says it laughingly, applaudingly, dreamily. 

(She does not say it, Minthara notes, to the other tiefling girl – the one who sits by the hearth and moons after the bard. She does say it to Gale later, when they’re on the road: “Gods, I love her. I really do,” and Minthara rolls her eyes.)

It’s saccharine. It’s infuriating. It’s downright dangerous. The world above is different than the one Minthara grew up in, it’s true – but it’s also not so unsimilar. Not in the ways that matter. Open affection in times of war is never a good idea. But it’s not Minthara’s job to remedy this, so she simply ignores these outbursts and carries on. If the bard wants to act the fool, so be it.

Then they fight together, and camp together. She spends hours on the shadow-mucked road with Alfira chattering besides her. They sleep together – once, twice, thrice.

 Somewhere along that line, Minthara realizes she cares about the bard. She worries about Alfira’s comfort, and more than that, about her safety. 

At the same time, Alfira starts saying it to her, too.

“Ugh, Minthara, I love you,” sighed as the drow brings her a glass of water or wine.

“My hero! I love you!” exclaimed after Minthara seizes her by the arm, saving her from a faceful of mud. 

“I love you, you know,” and this is the worst one yet, delivered with a loving gaze and a gentle hand placed over Minthara’s own,  “and the others do too. You don’t need to be so stoic all the time.” 

As if Alfira gets to say that. As if anyone in this damn camp gets to tell Minthara Baenre what to do. Besides, it’s not just stoicism, it’s pragmatism. She knows better than any the dangers of open love. She’s doing her damndest to keep Alfira alive and in one piece, and the least the girl can do is not undermine her with these constant displays of silliness. 

“It would do you good, Alfira,” she finally says, “to be a little more stoic.”

“Probably.” Alfira’s smile is sad and lopsided, and Minthara turns away.  

In the depths of night, when she’s half-lulled in a trance state and Alfira is curled up on the bedroll beside her, she is terrified. She watches the tiefling’s chest as it rises and falls, and she feels herself standing upon a knife’s edge of fear and affection. 

Alfira’s not a calm sleeper. She moves and mutters, and expressions flicker across her face, all little frowns and winces. Her tail curls, or lashes in agitation. It does so now, violently enough to bump Minthara. She catches it with one hand to run her thumb across the smooth skin there, the funny blunt-barbed end. It helps for a moment. Alfira calms – then she jerks with a gasp, eyes flying open. Minthara moves her hand to the woman’s chest, rubbing small circles as Alfira orients herself. 

She doesn’t ask what the nightmare was about. Not a night goes by without one of them going through similar: Shadowheart whimpering and twitching, a shout from Gale, clenched-teeth sobs from…well, any of them. Nobody mentions any of it in the morning. Minthara does not sleep (and she certainly doesn’t cry aloud like a child), but her own reveries are not always peaceful either. She rolls closer to Alfira, wrapping her free arm around her, and the bard curls into her chest. Her breath is warm against Minthara’s skin.

“Oh, Minthara, I’m glad you’re here. I love you,” Alfira murmurs. 

She can’t quite bring the word to leave her own lips. It tastes like poison on her tongue. It feels like a blade sliced cleanly through Alfira’s ribs, her own grip firm on the handle. It sounds like birdsong, like bard song, and also like downfall.

But she can’t bring herself to turn away, either. Not entirely. 

“...as I do you,” Minthara finally says, and she feels Alfira smile against her. 

[nemesis-is-my-middle-name]

ok i think the best part of the drk quests overall though is the point whenever you open up your journal midway through and abruptly realize that your wol has started taking notes in a completely different voice

[meme-loving-stuck]

creative journaling i got up to in the very short time i was not working, not in school, and didn't have any obligations

it's a shame my pretty cursive at the top got washed away cause my handwriting was shit back then

[turquoisefleur]

My Candy Love New Gen - tasks' backgrounds.

[pretendcottagelady]

Household Tasks Tracker

Again, another rename of a tracker that I always use. I think the term 'chores' can have very negative implications, especially if you grew up not liking chores or groaning about them.

Once more, I am changing how I am doing my chores. The plan is to make every Saturday a cleaning day and do as much as possible, with any leftovers being spread out over the rest of the week.

I want to see how far I can get if I do it by this method. Especially since I keep trying to finish all my household stuff in one go because I don't want to deal with it later.

[icicleteeth]

For a little over a week now, I've been playing the game with a plogon that hides all players in the game (accursed hoard grinding is a Fuckton of menuing, and other people running around where the HoH npc is messes with my cursor and it was also distracting) Lately I've been wondering if existing in a literal dead game for a week (and probably for the next whole month it'll take to finish the achievement) is doing some subconscious damage to my mood (not helped by the assload of work and Everything Going Wrong already going on in my real life) lol

[witchpassing]

it's a shame that the position of accomplice submissive / tame directed-attack sadist is relatively complicated to maneuver oneself into (requires stable hierarchical dynamic with at least two other parties, preferably as a comparatively ['comparatively' doing a great deal of work here] high-status subordinate). it's very, very fulfilling, and it would be nice if people got to try it out more often.

[thethingything]

I really don't like our brain's ability to jump from "I'm going to organise all this stuff and catch up with a bunch of tasks" to "it's time to get stuck in an increasingly distressing thought spiral for several hours, accidentally trigger yourself, then feel like shit because you haven't done anything but also haven't managed to rest".

like please can we maybe have like a nice middleground where we do a few things and then rest for a while and don't experience the full range of human emotions over the course of about 3 hours

[silverfroot]

Bought a notebook to register my tasks with Eisenhower method.

Bought another notebook to put on info that I'll need on handy all the time. Like this one about the law over interchangeable medicines.

Found this book on my drive, about law and practices on pharmacy. Well, it's a MUST reading, for sure. (Classified as on non urgent, but important task)