#most of the feedback i got was postive too

[newfoundloveforwriting]

I recently took part in the NYC Midnight 100 word story challenge and I'm quite proud of what I produced, so I figured I'd share it here:

Genre: Sci-fi

Action: Feeding a dog

Word that I had to include: Armed

A struggling scavenger, torn from his old life by the war between humans and cyborgs, finds salvation in a morsel of food that'll keep him going a while longer. A pitiful whine comes from behind and he turns. Eyes settling on a wounded dog. The dog makes no movement, but it's eyes plead. It's stomach growls, as does his. Maybe we're not so different, he thinks, armed only with the food that he feeds to the dog, succumbing to the hunger that's been gnawing at him for weeks. His final act, of kindness. A grateful whimper in return. Then nothing.

[unholyhelbig]

part 4 mob boss mommy *i mean natty oops*

Title: The Oversight [Part 4/7]

Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanoff

Wordcount: 4325

Warnings: Gun imagery, heights, unecessary tension, horrible grammar, and funnel cake

[A/n: Heads up, I wrote this while I had the flu & a pretty bad fever, so it's not my greatest work. Thank you all for the postive feedback!]

[ Part one | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven ]

Main Masterlist | Read my stuff on AO3 | Leave Requests

“Hit me.” Natasha’s words were growled, a low rumble compared to the warm spring breeze that produced nothing but a balmy environment. Sweat glossed her collarbone, moved against expanses of skin that you had let yourself imagine, but had never seen. She was a distraction, despite being your instructor.

Her wrapped fist made contact with your jaw, a metallic taste coating your tongue. You let out a grunt of protest, fingers quickly working against the area to ease the throbbing pain. “That wasn’t fair,”

“You think they’re going to play fair? Focus up. Hit me.”

There was something about being this close to Natasha that formed a pit in your stomach. You were meant to have skin on skin contact, though most of your mornings for the past two weeks had been spent at the gun range, she had deemed you ready enough to learn how to fight. It was an art, you figured, not just something you could blindly go into.

For the first fifteen minutes of your day, you had watched Natasha and Kate spar. Yelena was standing next to you, a borderline predatory gaze on her face. You’d realized that it was one of the only emotions she harbored, and that Clint was rightful in his fear. Still, her attention was not focused on you, and that was good enough for the time being.

Instead, it was homed in on Kate. “I have been teaching her for nearly a year now.”

“She’s good.”

“You do not have to lie, y/n. She’s sloppy, reckless. Look how calculated Natalia is.”

Those emerald eyes were tracking every move the taller girl made. She’d initiated contact with Kate’s ribs, with her knees, and her shoulders. She’d fallen to the grass more times than you could count, but she still got up. That’s what seemed to count around here. Even as green a brown stained her workout gear, and as purple blotches of dead blood rose to the surface of her skin.

“It pays to learn fighting styles. That is something the Danver’s family does not understand. They hire whoever they can. Bodies over skill, it can work in some situations, but not all.”

“When did this… war start?”

“Mm, the power struggle has been raging for decades. Our parents, and their parents, and their parents before them. Both of us were trained to take over the family business. Men, they fight with their hearts and not their heads. When Carol and Natalia took up the mantel, things only got worse.”

You felt silly, growing up on these city blocks, and not realizing that a fight bigger than yourself was raging just within the shadows. You supposed that was a good thing. If you knew, you’d have taken Ronnie out of here in a second.

Kate hit the ground for a fourth time, the air knocked out of her lungs. She still had enough left to groan and prop herself up on her elbows. Natasha chuckled, the sound bubbling past her lips. This was much too fun for her.

“She is fragile.” Yelena nudged you with her arm. You frowned. Kate accepted the outstretched hand and allowed herself to be pulled to her feet. She looked dazed. “Do not tell her I said so, but she was looking for a project. You have to give it your all. For both of your sakes.”

You drew in a breath to respond, but Yelena clapped a hand on your back before taking a step toward the dueling duo. “Alright Nat! I think you’ve tortured Kate Bishop enough. Do not break her.”

Kate was bouncing back and forth on the balls of her feet, her fists raised in a defensive position. Her lip was split, rusty crimson against the corner of her mouth. “I can do this all day.”

“You do not have to.” Yelena’s nose scrunched up “You stink. Go take a shower.”

The blonde shoved Kate playfully towards the house, trailing behind her and murmuring things in Russian. She’d left you alone with Natasha, something you had become quite accustomed to. In your workout gear, you felt more than a little exposed, her stare raking up and down your form before her cheeks turned a deeper shade of pink than they already were.

The two of you had sat on the lawn chairs as she wrapped your knuckles, had you punch the palm of her hand to see how much blowback it would cause. You were holding back, and you both knew it. Her last command had been non-negotiable.

When you swung your right hand towards her jaw, Natasha wrapped her fingers around your wrist. She had flipped you onto the ground with enough force to knock the air from your lungs. You’d flailed in panic instead of going limp like Kate had.

You’d dragged Natasha down on top of you. Her body weight was warm from the beating sun, her elbows on either side of your head. Natasha’s knee was between yours, pressing into your core. You let out a small gasp at the sensation, pulling in her musky scent of sweat and clove.

Stray strands of russet hair framed Natasha’s face as she peered down at you, her chest heaving, each breath pushing her closer to you. Her nose was brushed against yours. The two of you were impossibly close, soul-crushingly so. You were certain that she could feel your heartbeat through your shirt.

She made a quite noise “Pet, if you wanted to get me on top of you, all you had to do was ask.”

Your gaze had given you away, and Natasha suddenly had a shit-eating grin against her lips. You hooked your legs against hers an arm wrapping around her waist. In a smooth move, you had her flipped against the grass, eyes reflecting the blue of the cloudless sky. She nearly seemed impressed, and you preened at the stare.

That was before her knee came up and knocked the wind out of you for the second time. You grunted, rolling off her. The two of you stared up at the sky for a few moments before she hoisted herself up and offered you a hand. You batted it away out of habit, rising on your own.

“When you fall, you fall with grace.” Natasha said, her voice stoney, right back to her serious self. “That way you don’t end up like we just were.”

“And if they ask?” you lifted an eyebrow at her, a hint of malice in her voice. She took a step closer to you, and that ever-intoxicating scent filled your lungs once more. Your ribs still ached from her kick, fingers massaging the sore spot. However, all of your movement halted.

Her voice was murmured and rusty. “I don’t want anyone else on top of you.”

“Okay,” You whispered, throat suddenly tight. “Then show me how.”

Veronica had the excited reflection of light in her eyes. They scanned the traveling fair that had been set up in the park bordering the harbor and a square city block. Each year, tents with local vendors would go up, rides and carnival games in their stead.

The scent of kettle corn filled your lungs, a mix of sweet and salty that reminded you of your own childhood spent here. It was the one constant that every foster family took part in. Sometimes you’d be given a stack of tickets, others, you’d get enough for a large cup of the best lemonade you had ever tasted.

Her hand tightened around yours, squeezing in excitement. Despite your current situation, you couldn’t help but smile. The soft sound of music and the light breeze was enough to make your forget about your aching muscles, and the light sweater that you had thrown on to hide the bruising against your shoulders, your arms, and collarbone. Natasha had really done a number on you.

“Jimmy is a nice guy, he really is, but the whole magic thing is driving me nuts.” Darcy used her forefingers to pinch off a bit of blue cotton candy, shoving it into her mouth. She talked around the melting sugar. “Seriously, he spilled my coffee all over my lap attempting a card trick and then attempted to mop it up with a never-ending handkerchief.”

You snickered at that, earning a look cut from glass. “What? I’m sorry about your drycleaning, but it is kind of funny.”

“Yeah, whatever. I just have to grow a backbone. He doesn’t try to pull that shit with Monica. No one tries to pull that shit with her.” She knelt in front of Ronnie, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. “You’re not going to tolerate stupid magic tricks, are you?”

She was met with a silent, but amused stare, her eyebrow lifted. You’d been leveled with that look more than once yourself. It dissolved you into more laughter. “Alright, alright. No magic for the kid. Does the Ferris Wheel count as magic?”

“Well sure, but only at the worlds fair.”

You rolled your eyes but effectively tugged them both into the line. It had always been one of your favorites. It gave you a good look at the city you called home. Of course, your view of that city had been stunted lately. It never truly changed the beauty of the lights and the way they reflected off the water.

Your shoulder came in contact with chilled leather, your attention having been trained on fishing through your pockets for the small red tickets. Your eyes shot up, ready to rush out an apology until the words stopped in your throat.

Seeing Natasha outside of her manor was jarring. She looked nearly the same, a tight-fitting black T-shirt and a leather jacket draped over her shoulders. Her hair was loose, unlike it was at training earlier in the day, cascading down her shoulders. Her make-up was light, her unripe stare pouring into yours. That bewilderment melted into her cool exterior as if it were never there in the first place.

“Natasha,” the word poured from your lips before you could stop it, and the corner of her mouth quirked up in amusement. “Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.”

“I can take a hit” She stated matter-of-factly. You were well aware of the fact, and you had to stifle a shiver as it worked its way down your spine. Hours before she had been nestled so perfectly on top of you.

Your cheeks heated up and you glanced sparingly at your friend, her own eyes going back and forth between the both of you. It was then that you noticed Clint, towering over Natasha with his arms crossed over his chest. He gave you a finger wave, and you lifted your chin in return.

“I’m Darcy, you are?” She was beyond forward, and it made you internally cringe. She reached her hand out to the very woman that ran the city. It was like sticking your hand in the lions enclosure covered in steak sauce.

“Natasha,” her words dripped with a subtle hint of her accent “This is Clint.”

“Howdy,” he knelt then, Veronica was clinging tightly to your leg, peeking around tentatively. She hugged you closer as he spoke. “You must be Veronica.”

The woman in front of you softened as you had never seen before. Her eyes grew brighter, though you could pin that on the circulating lights of the Ferris Wheel. There was a genuine smile on her lips as she looked at the girl who hugged you ever close.

“She doesn’t talk much, I’m afraid.” Your hand moved comfortingly to her shoulder. Ronnie seemed comfortable, if not excited about the rides that were teeming around them.  

Nat smiled at you “Oh, I’m sure she’ll speak when she has something to say.”

Ronnie’s death-grip on your leg seemed to loosen a bit as Clint straightened up. Darcy continued to scrutinize you and Natasha, something mischievous in her stare that you didn’t exactly care for. She rocked back and forth on her feet and directed her attention to Clint.

“How good are you at skeeball?”

“An absolute beast.” Clint replied.

“What do you say to a challenge? I bet I can kick your ass with the power of science. Winner springs for funnel cake.”

You picked up on the subtle look Clint gave Natasha and the even more subtle wave that she responded with. She blew an amused breath. Darcy stretched her hand towards Ronnie and wiggled her finger. “Kid, you staying or going?”

This time, Ronnie looked up at you for confirmation and you gave her a small, encouraging nod. She dislodged herself and wrapped her hand around Darcy’s. The promise of flaky and sweet funnel cake topped with powdered sugar was too tantalizing.

Admittedly, you were used to being left alone with Natasha at this point. Though it had mostly been in a business capacity. She seemed almost shy now, the line for the Ferris Wheel inching ever so closer.

“We can still go on, if you want.” She suggested.

“Yeah, yes. Of course.” You replied, “that would be lovely.”

“Your friend is very persistent.”

“She’s harmless, really.”

“And your daughter. She’s beautiful.” Natasha shoved her hands into her pockets, the two of you inching closer in line. “Just like her mother.”

Once again, you could feel the breath lodge in your throat, your cheeks flushing with fire. She was so bold at moments, and you remained silent in your conquest. There was no telling what was overstepping, though she blinked at you expectantly.

You fumbled dumbly with the tickets in your pockets, presenting them to the attendant. You both ended up in a cherry red car lined with nice leather cushions. Natasha’s thigh was warm against yours, her thick scent coating your lungs. Her arm was around the back of the cart, and a familiar sense of safety settled within you.

“You worry about her,” Natasha said to fill the silence as they loaded each cart. It lurched forward and back, making your stomach turn. “I didn’t start speaking until I was nine years old. My mother, she was so concerned that she rushed to be every specialist that money could buy. Whole days spent driving to different counties, just for them to say that same thing. Nothing is wrong, and I’ll talk when I’m ready.”

“What was that moment? The one where you were ready?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “The thing about being quiet, is that people tend not to notice when you’re in the room. My father protected Yelena and I from his world for as long as he could, but eavesdroppers hear no good of themselves, and others. I watched him give a man his last drink before shooting him between the eyes.”

“Fuck, Natasha.” You murmured.

“He doesn’t know I saw that. I ran as quietly as I could back to my room and hid under the duvet like a child. Something snapped in me that day and I no longer wanted to be silent. I suppose the fear of displeasing either of them ebbed the words from me.”

She was being vulnerable in front of you, a side that you had never seen. There were always her subtle touches, and her purred words that would hit the pit of your stomach. You’d watch as she gave unwavering commands to Clint, to Yelena and Kate. But this was different. This was her.

The city sparkled around you. Tricolored lights reflected off the blackness of the causeways that lapped listlessly at the harbor. If you squinted, you could almost make out the mansion where you spent most of your time.

The carnival buzzed below. Her scent was overwhelming, so warm and welcoming despite her danger. And dangerous she was. It was alluring, exciting. You looked at her, eyes pouring with emotion. Not so much pity, as she would snap your wrist at the fact. But a simple understanding.

Tentatively, you reached up and cupped her cheek. You both were too far above the ground to be realized and the simple gesture was one of good faith. Surprisingly, she leaned into your touch, making a quiet, relieved noise.

Your voice was whispered, “You didn’t deserve that. You were just a kid.”

She had closed her eyes, reveling in the warmth of your contact. Her features were so soft, so broken in this moment that you resisted the urge to kiss her frown away. Before you could contemplate it, the Ferris Wheel lurched and she gently took her fingers and wrapped them around your wrist, lowering both of your hands into her lap.

“She’ll talk,” Natasha gave your hand a squeeze “give her time.”

Natasha cleared her throat as the cart neared the end of its journey. She pulled away entirely, her arm still along the back of the seat. When she leaned closer, you could feel the weight of the gun in the inside pocket of her jacket. Seriousness had lidded over her eyes once more.

“We have a job tonight, and I want you to come along.” She said, breath hot on your collarbone.

You were suddenly snapped back to reality. Natasha was in fact the head of a crime ring that you had unwittingly stumbled into. Up until now, aside from the brutal beating, it had almost felt like child’s play. She’d relearned you how to shoot, and you knew the very basics of fighting. But, you were far from her Winter Soldier stand in. You weren’t even a toy soldier.

She sensed your hesitancy. “I have a meeting at a restaurant downtown. It’s not going to go south, but if it does, I need you there. You won’t be alone.”

“Clint?” You asked.

She shook her head “guys got a family of his own, he must spend some time with them outside of work hours. Kate.”

You fought back the noise that threatened to escape your throat. You didn’t doubt Kate, but you certainly doubted yourself. You didn’t have your own weapon, and the threat of leaving a restaurant with a bullet lodged between your ribs became very real, very quickly.

She chuckled at that, “I trust her. I trust you. Just stand there and follow her lead. Look hot and intimidating.”

“Is hot really a requirement?”

“Not really, but you pull it off.” There was a switch in her again, one that had been flipped effortlessly as she grabbed the collar of your sweater and pulled you impossibly close. You were nearly sitting in her lap. “Don’t fail me on this, y/n. It’s imperative that you do as you’re told.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You swallowed thickly as her hands wandered your side expertly. It took you a moment to realize that she had pulled the gun from her own coat and silently transferred it to yours before she released her hold on you. You had admit that you missed the touch instantly.

She stood from the cart when the attendant unlocked the door, reaching her hand out to you. You took it was ease, letting her help you onto the metal dismount. There were no words exchanged as you readjusted the weapon as slyly as you could muster, hands shoved into your pockets a moment later.

“I don’t know what to tell you, dude.” You could hear Darcy’s voice from within the crowds. It was easy to spot them, and you swore you saw the ghost of a smile on Natasha’s face. “The kid kicked both of our asses. Split the difference and pay up.”

“Yeah, fine.” Clint fished out his wallet and placed a couple of bills in Darcy’s waiting palm. “The price of carnival food these days is outrageous.”

Kate had presented you with a leather holster that fit snuggly around your chest and abdomen. She’d tightened the straps, your arms halfway raised. It felt a bit like a dressing room at the mall, her breath hot on your cheek as she tugged the center strap to make sure it was secure.

“Natasha likes us to be presentable.” She handed you a dark jacket to throw over the contraption. “Inconspicuous and deadly. But still presentable.”

You followed Kate’s lead. Natasha was to drive to the restaurant, and the two of you were to follow in a separate car. It was important to stay quiet unless you were spoken to directly by Natasha. Kate seemed at ease on the ride over, drumming her fingers against the steering wheel to an incoherent pop song.

The holster pinched you uncomfortably, but you were so deep into your own fear, your own reluctance, to pay much attention. Kate shot you a look, hard in her nature, and then softer when she glanced at you a second time.

“You’re much too tense” she flicked off the radio, delving you into a comfortable silence. “Lower your shoulders and relax. It’ll be an uneventful night.”

“Right,” you let out a shaky breath “uneventful.”

“Look, I can’t imagine how jarring this is for you. I would have shut down by now, changed my name and gone into witness protection if I was thrown into this life the way you are. Without a choice. But, we can make the best of it and do what we can to protect Natasha.”

“It seems like she can handle herself,”

Kate chuckled “Oh, she can. But she doesn’t keep us around just for protection. It’s a big city, she wants people she trusts. She wants a family. And I know it might not seem like it, but her welcoming you into her inner circle… it’s a blessing. Just like we’d go to bat for her, she’d do the same for us.”

You swallowed the dryness in your throat as Natasha pulled her car to the curb in front of a russet brick building. Kate did the same expertly, shutting off the engine. She clapped you on the shoulder, giving you one more encouraging smile. “One night at a time, y/n. Follow my lead.”

Kate opened the door for Natasha, and you had to keep your jaw from dropping on the ground at the sight of her. Her long leg stretched onto the sidewalk, her hand squeezing Kate’s in return as she helped her from the vehicle.

She wore a maroon dress, one that had a slit down the leg that left little to the imagination. The color matched the shirt Kate had given you earlier, everything orchestrated to a tee. The woman looked at you approvingly before she took striding steps towards the front of the building. Out of habit, you held the door open for you, another look sparkling in her dark eyes.

It was a restaurant that you had never set foot in. There was a sour, yet pleasant, scent of vinegar and cabbage masked with that of freshly baked bread and beef. The walls were painted deep green, black and white photos of rolling hills placed above empty tables.

It was clear what table you were to be led to. There was one in the center of the restaurant that was set up with a bottle of wine, and water. A candle burned in the middle, shading the woman who occupied it with shadows that stretched her delicate features. She wasn’t alone.

The woman had cropped blonde hair at the shoulders. Her hazel eyes were calculating, clocking Kate and yourself immediately. Kate pulled Natasha’s chair back, allowing her to sit before she took a step back. You flanked her sides, arms behind your back and stare trained straight ahead like a sentinel.

“Two,” the woman smiled devilishly, hiding it behind a glass of deep red wine. “Are you compensating for something, or someone?”

The woman who stood much like you did behind her boss was not masking her contempt towards you. She was familiar in an irking way that you paid no mind to. It was in passing, you were sure, but it was one of those itches that would worsen until you could scratch it with your whole hand.

“Not at all,” Natasha replied cooly, “I believe there was something you wanted to discuss?”

“Mm, there was. You know the Maroni property on the west side.” She leaned forward, placing her glass down. Her lips were stained in a dark red that matched Natasha’s dress. “I want it.”

“That’s a horrible way to say please.”

“Natasha, we both know it doesn’t serve you in it’s current position.” She put emphasis on the name.

“I fail to see how that matters. Just giving you the property is out of the question. That’s not how this works, but I do admire your gumption.”

“Then how exactly does, this work?” She narrowed her eyes and leaned forward. Both you and Kate tensed. The vaguely-familiar woman behind Carol shifted on her feet in the slightest movement. “You kill one of my men and offer nothing in return?”

Natasha lifted her eyebrows “Exactly. This isn’t a bartering system, and it never has been. If I give you this building, it will change everything and I’m not much in the mood for a power struggle. What do you need it for?”

She seemed to falter “I don’t have to answer that. I’m offering to buy the property from you.”

“It’s not for sale.”

There was finality in her voice that rocked the room into silence. She hadn’t touched her wine, nor her water, and you figured she wouldn’t. Carol glowered at her, clearly not used to having her endeavors squashed with such ferocity.  

Natasha took a steadying breath. “Is that all? It’s late and I’m tired of your graveling.”

She let out a sigh and crossed her legs, drumming her ringed fingers on the cloth-laid table. The flames in the candle seemed to react to her impatience. Kate’s jaw clenched and unclenched as she leveled the woman behind Carol with a fierce stare.

“I suppose. I want you to remember this moment, Natasha. I offered you a deal.” She stood and dramatically sighed once more. “This could have been easy.”

Kate always kept her eyes on Carol, on the woman who followed behind her with her hands shoved into her pockets. The darkness of a previous scar littered her collarbone. She had the same stare that Bucky had, that same determined anger that came with years of meetings with higher stakes than this.

“Oh, and Nat.” She stopped just short of the door, turning to face the three of you.

Kate reached for her weapon, and out of a blind trust, so had you. It was warm from its housed place against your side. In that moment, you knew that anyone else in the room would be a quicker shot than you. Still, your heart was beating quickly in your throat.

“I don’t know where your Winter Soldier is, but this is a sorry excuse for a replacement.” She laughed, a mean sound. “A kid and a burn-out… you should’ve taken the deal.”

She left without another word, leaving you in a chilling silence. For a few long moments, Natasha stared at the table, at her reflection in the syrupy red wine. Her fingers brushed against the glass, frowning.

“I’m twenty-three.” Kate let out in a single breath, eyes drifting from you.

“Don’t look at me,” You whispered back, “I am a burn-out.”

[Taglist🕷♡: @dumbasslesbi, @lostremind, @toocreativeforausername @autorasexy @eringranola @mikookaaaaaao @marvelwoman-simp @pacmanmiles @mostlymarvelsstuff, @mrsrushman, @milfsandtittyenthusiast, @random-raccoon4, @ravenromanova, @mysticalmoonlight7, @ahintofchaos @cowboyboots236 @lissaaaa145]

[purposelyexposingmyselftovirgil]

Check point: Day 4 - March 24, 2021

Feeling check: unsafe || extremely uncomfortable || just uncomfortable || meh/not sure/ neutral || ok || could be better || good || safe

Postive comments / feedback from the experience: I stay one for about 40 minutes. I do believe that was good. My breathing was fine and steady for the most part except for the last 3-5 min. I was ok with little to no discomfort while looking at fanart. I even watched videos of the actual character however he was accompanied by other characters that I find comfortable. I even started to smile and feel less scared with the other characters around.

What can We work on: Character content by himself. Less art work and more face and videos centered around him.

Extra comments: The ship Moxiety is a good solid ship to start with. I once again recommended moving on to anxceit. When went to look at screenshots accounts I got about 5 images in before I began to panic. Try too look at more screenshot blogs.

Virgil TraficLight 🔴🟡🟢: 🟡

Tag as purposelyexposingmyselftovirgil checkup

[lockdownuk]

Lockdown Diary Part 10

A personal account during the lockdown in the UK due to the Covid-19 outbreak.

23/03/2020 8:30pm Boris Johnson, UK Prime Minister, gives a live address to the nation to, effectively, put the country on lockdown to stem the spread of the deadly coronavirus strain, Covid-19.

Many of us have been self-isolating for days but this latest development within the UK in reaction to the pandemic feels very serious and very scary. I decided to keep a simple diary and where better but online. Day 271: Work was dominated by Qfiniti again, including a meeting with Jon and staff from the States, where I found my self taking control to get the next steps in process (and then, Dave Stewart, the SCCM engineer fucked off and put an OOO message on Teams telling me he’s off until Tuesday (it’s Thursday)...and I am off on Monday!) But, I have to say this project does float my boat. Got a text message and then a call from PCH for another laser eye appt this coming Monday at 12.30pm. I mentioned to the lady that phoned that I will have to square it with work (I won’t, but she doesn’t know that) as I can’t afford to lose my job - it just seems the hospital, while under pressue with the admin and the clinic availability - I get it! - just aren’t seeing the issues for the patients. Plus, Peterborough has been declared a Tier 3 from Sunday under the new lockdown scheme, the highest tier. Great...I really want to travel to a highly infected area! managed to find an online booze shop that does Gordon’s and Famous Grouse and will deliver beforee Chrimbo, so I’ve placed the order for dad and Rita’s gift. I spoke with Dad today, he hasn’t heard about his vaccination yet which is a surprise (he’s in the first draft being over 80)

Day 272: Typing on day 273. Work was that manic shit at the end of the dya when I’ve got time off. I am only off on Moday but still had to tie up loose ends, complictaed further by Jon being off next week and Sueanne off this week and the Qfiniti project! In the evening I only mamaged three beers. I ate too much. Plus my sugars were all over the place and way too high! I ordered a torch a couple of days ago (£17), it arrived today. It takes rechargeable batteries or 3 AAAs. Apparently, to get the best performance (i.e. brightness) you need the rechargeable batteries in it, so i charged ‘em. Fucking hell, I’m glad I did - it’s brighter than the sun. It opens up my late walks in winter, for sure.

Day 273: While it was a very late (but sober) night yesterday (gone 4am before lights out) I was up before midday. Usual walking etc. plus gave the bathroom a clean (albeit with wipes, but I did mop the floor - and used the water to also mop the kitchen). Now I am about to stick a pizza in the oven, plus wedges (to have with microwaveable chip shop curry sauce) and watch This Is 40 which is coincidentally on telly tonight - the coincidence being clips of it are on TikTok a lot right now. I am on my second beer and am going to have a smoke right now as well. Lastly for this entry, I have been using my AudioPro speaker today, it pisses me off it’s not WiFi capable but, thru Bt, it does sound fucking good - revisiting James works very well to demonstrate the speaker’s prowess.

Day 274: I have another Paypal a/c. I have been getting emails to my standard gmail account from Paypal saying they are going to charge me £9 for an inactive account which I have been largely ignoring since my paypal a/c has a specific email address. Anyway, I tried to log in, after a password reset and, hey presto, I do have another one, with £35 in it, having just been fleeced of £9 for the aforementioned inactivity, fuckers. It’s registered with the old Market Place address and phone. When I try to transfer the £35 to my card, it wants to confim it’s me by calling the phone, which I can’t amend. Oh, and you can’t contact Paypal direct. Fuck knows what to do! Other than that, usual Sunday, a tad more relaxed since I have tomorrow off, but not that much now I have an eye appointment in Tier 4 Peterborough (it’s been up’d from tier 3)! Up at 1.30 pm (I watched This is 40 and The Guvners last night with lots of beer), feeling worse for wear but, stair climb and a 6 miler acheived!

Day 275: I was at the hospital for 3 hours. The laser clinic didn’t start until 1.30pm so, why my appointment was at 12.20, not even the consultant could understand. 15 minutes of lasering - horrible but I am used to it. It took so long it pretty much fucked my day off up completely. I got a Christmas card from Karen, in the actual post, so, a mail shot. It’s depressing.

Day 276: Back to work and it’s definitely in wind down mode. I’ve decided to compile a list of things I have done this year. It will be on the postive side, such as all the steps I’ve walked and getting an article published about my photography, but it will also include randon facts like getting bitten by a dig twice and not having a haircut. I’ll get it done so I can post in at new year, hopefully be a little inspiring, a little silly and a lot of showing off!

Day 277: Work, again, was quiet. It’s fucking pissing down now, as I type at 21:50, and has been all day. It’s causing havoc and there’s flooding everywhere. I could walk down St. Peter’s Road tonight ‘cos of it (had to go up New Road, Springfield Road, down Latham Road). Soaked a lunhtime and tonight! With a new variant of Coronavirus, France stopped frieght crossing the border. That’s now been resolved but tyeh back log has/is affecting certain food stocks in the shops, of which, fresh veg might affect me for Christams dinner (I plan to do a chicken breast with stuffing, pigs in blankets, yorkshire pud and shed loads of veg. I’ll nip to Co-Op tomorrow morning and see what’s vaialble. It’s a half day at work ‘cos of Christmas Eve, so I can nip out somewhere in the car if need be, as ong as the flooding has subsided. Or I could just get shitfaced and have burgers and pizza.

Day 278: Christmas Eve. Sueanne let me finish at 11.00am so, very shortly thereafter, off for a walk I went; it turned out to be a stop/start affair - flooding as the Nene had burst its banks, ended up doing more of a circuit round town. Bumped into Andy Smith (and his son) and, after that, Ash and Denise. Ended up doing just under 11.5km in 2 and a half hours.Knackered! As I type, I have a chilli on the stove, beer on the go, all the veg and chicken breast bought with no shortages, as feared, for tomorrow’s lunch and looking forward to eating. getting drunk, smoking, listening to music, watching telly....all over the next two/three days.

Day 279: I don’t even remember going to bed last night. As a direct result I got out of bed at 2.30pm. I couldn’t even be bothered with Christmas dinner, let alone anything else like exercise. I’m just about to have chilli for dinner (it’s 8.10pm). Watch some telly then try an go to sleep before midnight. No booze! I did talk to dad earlier. Day 280: Typing on day 281. A better, more productive day. Up @11.00am exercise and walk as usual, although the walk was a different route due to flooding. In the evening I could hear ‘storm Bella’ raging, so windy! I cooked a christmas dinner of sorts, chicken breast with Thyme, all the veg, roasted spuds and parsnip, stuffing (a first for me, albeit co-op stuffing mix), Yorkshie and pigs in blankets. It was smashing! A few beers and The Hitman’s Bodyguard, alays a fun watch. A better day, as I say, but I am feeling particular deflated this Christmas. Day 281: Typing on day 282. I realised, about mid afternoon, that Monday (tomorrow) is a bank holiday so no work. It was a great realisation but, also, worrying that it dawned on my like I’m an old person! Nevertheless, a nice long walk - bumped into Baz & Kate and had a nice long chat, then El & Camila, Aaron and Eva for another, shorter chat. I also saw Denise & Ash along the way. Fog video called later in the evening for a chat too (he told me how he fell asleep at the dinner table, fuck he makes me laugh - unwittingly - when I need it most!) A regular social fest! A repeat of last night’s dinner and a few beers - it was a good day albeit I am in a proper low ebb.

Day 282: Up at midday after a 4am-er. A very long walk (1.75 hours) and a hodge podge dinner (remaining chilli, roasted spuds and peppers, steamed cauliflower and runner beans, grated cheese) - it’s nearly ready, I’ll type the review tomorrow. I realise that this is the first time in 21 Christmases that I have at least talked to K. Is that connected to my mood slump? I reckon so. So, as that fact dawned on me, I then considered, should it be the case next Christmas, it will not be the first in along time and, as such, more manageable....fuck knows how I manage to accentuate any little positive but, thank goodness I do. Day 283: Work was a sedate affair today, fuck all to do really. Sueanne is now follwing me on Insta...I shall invetsigate on how to exclude posts to individuals, methinks. Tea, last night, was fucking lovely. More of the same tonight-ish - currently I am roasting spuds, peppers, garlic, chillies, tomatoes - it’ll all go with left over pigs-in-blankets (5) and a burger. I’ll have bisto beef with mustard on it. I can’t wait! Day 284: Typing on day 285. That meal was fucking lush! Checked on the car todfay and it would not start. Something is draining the battery so I will have to give it a run every day until I can get Julian to sort it. So, I WhatsApp’d Karen to borrow the portable starter. She dropped it off for me. We had the briefest of chats at the doorstep, first time we’ve spoken in weeks. She mentioned my hair! Day 285: NYE. I have just got back from walking to Cottersock and back. I would not have been able to do so without my new torch! I finished and published my double letter quiz on FB, including to the Virtual Pub group and the Oundle Chatter. It’s had some good feedback, I’m rather proud of it. I am going to make chicken casserole now (with dumplings - a first for me, I even bought some flour), have some beers and get a bit stoned. Before that, I am going to finish off my list of things I’ve done this year, including steps wlaked and hours listening on Spotify. I am quite proud of that list too.

Day 286: I fucked the dumplings up, added too much water, so that didn’t happen but the chicken casserole was good, just about to finish it for tea tonight. I also had pizza last night and went to bed at 5am. I have had a lot of good feedback on my list of 2020 achievements. I proud of it. K sent a happy new WhatsApp last night, around 00.30.

Day 287: No booze last night, so I was up before the alarm today (about 10.00am) Two walks, one on my own, another with Fog with a couple of beers. I fucking loved it! Watching datrts (World champs semi finals - been texting Dan while the first one has been on). Going to watch The Aviator later...I’ve not seen it before which surprises me. Why it surprises me I do not know, since I know I haven’t seen it. How the fuck can I be surprised by a fact I’m completely aware of? Day 288: I didn’t watch The Aviator ‘cos Logan Luck was on at 11:55pm on ITV4. Great fildm...I can’t believe that I very nearly paid for it (rent from Sky or Amazon). A late one last night and quite pissed. Thinking about it, having afew beers with Fog in the afternoon made it quite a long sesh for me! Up at just gone midday today, nice long walk (Cotterstock) which was mde long by a painful right ankle - I must have turned or twiested slightly sometime. Still, it survived. Back to work tomorrow - Chrimbo and New Year all done and dusted for the 55th time in my life!

Day 289: First day back at work of 2021. Boris announces another full lockdown in England (there’s a new strain of Covid19 which is seeing huge numbers of infections every day, over 50,000 per day).

Day 290: Something is up with my right foot, the little toe pad. It’s bloody sore. If it gets any worse it’ll affect my walking and exercise. I phoned Anne Bennison to talk about it, she just wants me to go and see her which i donlt want to do if poss, pandemic and all that.

Day 291: Wearing my sandals instead of the M&S slippers and my foot/toepad is already feeling bteer. However, I did inspect my Merrell boots, just in case, and the sole on te right is really worn down, in just three months. I have sent a WhatsApp to CotswoldOutdoors, where I got them from....let’s see what they say! It’s all kicking off i  the US - pro Trump protestors have storm the Capitol Building, where congrees was being held. Only in ‘Merica.

Day 292: Busy at work with rolling out Qfiniti - all that project work was pretty much for fuck all since the SCCM package has to hand held. It’s feckin’ freezing today, below freezing, slippy af on my walks. I have been shopping tonight, £106 in Corby Tesco. That does include 8 cans of sapporo.

Day 293: The fracas at Capitol Hill on Wednesday left 5 dead, it looks like Trump will be impeached. He’s already said he’ll not attend Biden’s inauguration. In a fucking world gone mad, it’s another level of madness. It’s really cold -3℃ tonight, more of the same tomorrow. Makes for brisk walks. I’ve just had chicken balti pie and chips for tea. It was so nice that I burnt the roof of my fucking gob. I’m on the Sapporo and about to have a smoke then watch Jack Reacher. I’ve (kinda) earnt after the first 5 day week for a while.

Day 294: Well, last night saw another late one...5am by the time I :went to sleep. Up at 2pm today with no instention of any exercise or walking or housework or fuck all, really. But, I did my exercises and a 9 mile walk. While I walked I came across Banners, quick 15 min chat and listed to Stage by David Bowie. He’s all over the radio right now as it’s his death’s anniversary tomorrow and his birthday yesterday. It’s a fucking good live album. A few beers tonight, eating trash, watching FA Cup highlights then End of Watch later.  Posh played today (first time in a while due to Covid infections) drew away to (shitty) Lincoln 1-1. Good point as Posh were down to ten men after 67 mins for a second yellow for handball in the area. Lincoln missed the pen. Fucking funny. Chorley, the non leaguers who knocked Posh out in round 2 of the FA Cup, beat Derby in round 3 today (albeit derby fielded an academy side of 11 first timers due to Covid ) - a great day for them!

Day 295: Up at 2pm swearing blind I’d not walk or exercise (again!) but, of course I did. I’ve done over 25 miles this w/e! End of Watch was brilliant last night. Well worth a rewatch, so emotional. I am making butter chicken as I type. I’ve added extra onion, garlic and, of course, chillies. It’s the spiciest butter chicken I have ever tasted! 

Day 296: One of those frustrating days at work when no problem of request I try to resolve goes without a hitch. After a 7km walk in the evening, took the car for a spin and cleaned the bathroom. Fucking knackered. It’s 11:30pm and I’m in bed typing this on the iPad! despite getting up so late, I feel knackered. 11pm bedtime for me, I reckon.

Day 297: Fucking busy at work, the States rolled out a new Okta trust policy and it caused mayhem. Meant my evening walk didn’t start ‘til gone 6pm. When I got back, clened the hall and stairs, made chilli (which I am about to have for tea (gone 10.15pm!) and showered. I’m, again, fucking knackered! Posh played Portsmouth in the EFL Trophy 3rd round at home. Won 5-1. Nice.

Day 298: Had an electrician rouind for the EICR cetrt. He was here until 2pm and it was a pain in the arse, having to work upstairs plus, with having to cut the electricity, all the smart devices lost their settings. And it was freezing up there.

Day 299: Work was impossibly infuriating. Not one pc remote session went to plan! It was pissing down a lunchtime during my walk but, I have to say, the cheap TargetDry coat copes fine in heavy rain for short periods. Everywhere is flooding again even though the rain turned to sleet. By my evening walk, it was dry but bloody cold. Then, when I got in I cleaned the kitchen and mopped the floor and the bathroom’s as well. I fucking done in! Chatted to dad today - same as ever!

Day 300: What a fucking work at week! I am so glad it’s Friday. To celebrate, I ordered new walking boots: Scarpas £121!

[pbandjesse]

I had kind of a weird day. It wasnt great. I still dont feel great. But I am for sure doing better. I was in bed basically all day and that didnt feel good. But I just couldnt get up. 

I slept alright last night. It was still very hard to fall asleep. And I woke up at 9 and was like. Just not feeling it. But I got up. I got dressed in what I hoped would be warm clothes. But it just didnt work. I was super cold all day. I couldnt get my toes to stop being frozen. I was not in a good place. James made me a sandwich. And that helped a little but I was just not in a good place for most of the day. 

I didnt really know what to do with myself. I couldnt get it together. And I was just so cold. And I felt so sad. 

James went out for a bike ride. And I tried to at least do something. I organized my closet again. Pulled out a few things out and put things away in the trunk. I also pulled everything out of the trunk and refolded everything in there. And picked out different pjs to put in the drawer I share with James. I had the fire escape door open to have some light and air. And it was cold but I was okay. I felt alright.

James got back from his bike ride eventually. I asked for burritos for lunch. But while he had gone to the store this morning he forgot sour cream. And I was like alright. But he was determined to go fine it. I just wanted to eat and have him here. But he insisted on going out to find it. He had to walk all the way to eddys because everywhere else had half hour lines to get in. But he got some adn came home and we had our late lunch. He was putting out this very tired energy. He has been cooking so much lately and I know its burning him out a little bit. We are both getting very tired. But were doing our best. 

I was just still. Very low. 

But my DnD friends reminded me we were getting together online tonight. And I showed them the avatar I made of my character. And they liked it! And I was like I will make them of everyone. And they came out so cute. It was fun and helped my sad feelings a lot. 

Me and James went for a walk and that helped shake off some bad feelings too. Got my blood flowing. I had a snack. And around 8 we all go online to try to figure out how to play. We had some issues with connections and feedback sounds. But eventually we got it together and we were able to play for about an hour. I am still cursed to speak in rhymes and I got a couple in there!! I also rolled a Nat 20 for friendship with Jahanara. Very excited for that one. 

I actually do feel a lot better. I dont feel so sad. I really hope tomorrow feels better. I have work to do. A meeting. And I hope I am not so cold. I hope you all have a good night and no one is feeling sick. Im sending postive vibes to everyone tonight. Goodnight. 

[somethingabouttheway]

Poetry

@terranoctis​ @breakingitswings @hiddenhina Because you mentioned that you like it when I write (I think), so I wanted to share my (KIND OF SUPER LONG 5 PART) poem with you!

@rose-grangerweasleyisbae @queenofthyme Because I love it when you write and you both are my favorites!! (I’m not sure if you knew that already!!  BUT I DO!!)  This isn’t Drarry related, but since I can’t write fanfiction the way you do, I just wanted to show you something that I did write.  (But if I could twist this, the speaker would be pining!Draco, Harry is He, and Ginny would be She...) XD

And to any other of my followers who do end up reading this, please give me feedback (both negative and postive)!!  I’d love to improve!!

Museums

I.  He Says He Hates Museums (An Introduction to Kindness)

II.  She Smiles (It’s for the Better)

III.   I Am (Weighing My Self-Worth)

IV.  If He Is a Lighthouse (Then I Could Be a Lighthouse Too)

V.  Museums House Dinosaur Bones (While I Hide Skeletons in the Closet)        

Summary:  All parts can stand alone, but together, they tell the story of the speaker, who, goes from trying to change him (the object of her affection), to trying to change herself, but in the end, comes to a realization.  Part I is about his statement.  Part II is about Her (the object of his affections who is in love with someone else).  Part III is about the speaker.  Part IV is about him.  Part V is about museums in general. 

Museums

I.  He Says He Hates Museums (An Introduction to Kindness) He says he hates museums, But what I hear translates to He got hurt somehow in his past, Possibly at a museum, A living essence of Complicated, In need of a saving grace; This is my chance To take him in And fulfill my grandiose dreams for salvation Of the male species. I’ll rewrite the experience for him Because the magic is in discovering That through these rooms housing art, One has the power to revisit the past. We’ll walk through exhibits together, I’ll show him the hards and the softs Of The Persistence of Memory All he needs is an introduction to kindness He’ll find it in the angel from The Annunciation, Face to face with a miracle, And me, his loving Savior. We’d have good conversation in a museum— When really, he just means he hates museums.

II.  She Smiles (It’s for the Better) He says he hates museums, Because they’re boring So I go and visit 50 this summer And I think although he says he hates them, He likes Her And she is the most beautiful painting Inside The Louvre; Protected by bulletproof glass, Nothing but time could cause Her looks to fade away But who in the world can fight against time? When our hour is over, We all grow dim and our colors fade, So naturally— She is flawless. She looks and doesn’t see him Because he isn’t Romeo and she can’t be his Juliet But maybe it’s for the better That we don’t poison ourselves over love. Although she smiles because of someone else, Still, he goes to find her and likes Her anyway And for that, I cannot find fault Because, like all of us, Even if we end up being star-crossed lovers All the same He cannot deny his weakness for beauty, Even though he says he hates museums.

III.  I Am (Weighing My Self- Worth) He says he hates museums, Yet he himself is a piece of art. My best friend says not to get too hung up over it— That I am a work of art too, A Jackson Pollock maybe Something Abstract Expressionist A bit obscure, And too much emotional intensity, Investing way too much time Searching for the hidden meaning And making out words and people to be More than they really are— Sometimes things are genuinely that simple. I sigh Her name And my friend smiles gently and says, People all over the world know Her name And wait hours to flock to Her The majority will trample over each other to see Her They’ll spend a few seconds with Her, Take their selfies and leave, She is valuable But only a few know how to appreciate her worth— Just as with you. Not everyone, Only the special few, Will spend a little bit longer with you, Perhaps out of confusion Because they can’t figure out What you’re trying to say, she jokes, You are an acquired taste Because you make them curious. Maybe somebody out there could admire that; But maybe what he means is I’m not made up of The types of paintings he longs for, After all, She is Real And he is a Realist; I’m only a Modern woman Weighing my self-worth, When he says he hates museums.

IV.  If He Is a Lighthouse (Then I Could Be a Lighthouse Too) He says he hates museums, He’d rather spend his time in bars Or hole-in-the-wall diners A real-life Nighthawks. He introduces me to his friends one day, When he isn’t looking, They express their concerns about him He smokes too much, drinks too much, I wonder how lonely he must feel He reminds me of The Lighthouse at Two Lights, A sad, solitary figure Withstanding dangerous coastlines, He shines his light into the distance Searching for Her The way a compass’s needle Is magnetically drawn to the north. I could be a lighthouse too Situated on an island, facing him Providing safe entries into harbors, Imagine, together, we’d shine as bright as the stars, Beacons of safety for the public good, The price— The water’s relentless erosion, But the true tragedy lies in our lights never touching Because Her smile is the inevitable ocean between us. I think he and I Would sympathize with Van Gogh, All 3 of us spend our lives Gazing at the stars in the night sky, His soul is the half that makes strenuous pacts of silences And mine, the half with occasional bouts of sanity But why should it matter if he says he hates museums?

V.  Museums House Dinosaur Bones (While I Hide Skeletons in the Closet) He says he hates museums, And I wonder if he also means the ones That are trendy these days The ones young people visit To take hipster pictures And post on social media, The ones that include aviation And all the famous fliers, You know, the one filled with ice creams in diverse colors, Vast arrays of lights, a room of mirrors, Memorabilia of love and lost, The ones depicting the legends of musicians and their records The ones that come alive at night In Hollywood Broomsticks and wands from movies, Displays of books Or pipes, located in 221B. I may not understand him, But I understand museums well We both hold and collect things We store them Or put them on display, The way people bare their hearts. We keep track of dates For periods when we’re eager to time travel— Museums house dinosaur bones, While I try to hide my skeletons in the closet, Instead of disposing of them, We horde things forever. Immovable dreamers, Who fantasize about being infinite among the galaxies of planets and stars, We look for beauty in the things that others don’t always care to see In any case, Museums are meant to make you feel And I still can’t tell, Whether he is afraid to feel Or if he just doesn’t want to, I guess hatred is a feeling too. I hope he finds what he is searching for, Because I often fool myself into thinking That I deny changing myself for any girl or boy. He likes cigarettes And smokes them the way I am addicted to over-analyzing; I inhaled secondhand too much tobacco this summer I hate the way it smells, So maybe it wouldn’t have worked out anyways Even if he did like museums, Because smoking chokes me And that is what we would do to each other, I shouldn’t have to change him I shouldn’t have to change myself either. We like what we like And we hate what we hate What’s special about museums is that we’re free Free to embrace our independence, free to create, Free to love and hate. Museums are a place for discovery and discussion A home for freedom of expression A refuge for those who invent brand new solutions Instead of ripping apart others’ creations, A symbol of hope for those who made it, despite others’ criticism. I think maybe I am more of a Picasso Broken into tiny shards of Geometric Cubes Little pieces that tell a story I’m sharp in corners, without meaning to be Existing with a lack of form Challenging the expectations Of idealized beauty in women; I’m not here to provide pleasure for the male gaze I love it here There are many people in the world who find love here So why should it matter if he says he hates museums?

[141-point-12]

is there any topic or way of writing you would like to tackle but are to insecure/shy to actually pursue? i often build a blockade for myself since i am so insecure abt my writing and dont trust myself with less conventional writing themes or styles :(

Sorry for answering this like an hour after you sent it, anon-chan. I got a little distracted doodling and forgot to look back here. :D 

The short answer is yes, absolutely. You only have to go so far as the tags on any of the “racy” stories I’ve ever posted to see copious amounts of wide eyed shrugging and “uhh i dunno!” noises. It’s not that the idea of sex or anything embarasses me, I literally just tend to hit a wall when I sit down and have to write anything like that out. I can get it done eventually, but it’s like pulling teeth and just a pain, and then of course knowing that it’s going to be a drag makes me not want to do it, so I don’t really get practice and then the next time it’s still difficult and... well you can see where this is going.

Which, honestly is a right shame because sometimes I have (what I think are) some interesting notions/plot bunnies/things I want to explore that go down those avenues. Usually I just end up scribbling down some loose head canons so at least the ideas and concepts are written down somewhere in case I (or someone else) wants to explore them later. 

That being said, I’ve tackled “difficult” subject matters in a few different ways. Writing with a partner I trust has been helpful for sure. Everyone has their strengths in something like writing, and having some people with a little more experience under their belts helping me out, both in team-projects and also just as proofreaders is invaluable. If you can find someone who can give you postive, constructive feedback, they can be an amazing resource.

I also know that both in writing and art, I tend to get a little too precious about pieces. Like, everything I put my pen to has to be some kind of AMAZING finished piece, because it’s so easy to tie the value of things to comments/kudos/public feedback etc. One of the most helpful things I did for myself was devise some simple exercises where I knew from the start that the end result wasn’t going to be anything amazing, just simple writing exercises. In one case, I opened up myself to one word prompts, with the condition that each “story” had to be written in ten minutes. If it didn’t go anywhere interesting, fine. If I couldn’t finish it and ended mid sentence, also fine. The idea was just to push myself to think creatively about the prompts and go for it without worrying too much about the end result. 

The other thing I’ve done to help me out is just research personal accounts. I’ve written a few stories that deal with things I personally haven’t gone through (PTSD for example) so there were definitely times when I felt like I might be a litle out of my depths, and I definitely didn’t want to write something that didn’t ring true to people out there who actually have gone through it. It’s great to research data and reports to get a factual side of things, but I found that reading blog entries/tumblr posts/ etc from people who have experienced what I was writing about really helped me understand it in the way a regular news article might not. (In some cases, this meant actually talking to people who had experienced the scenario, so again, your friends can be a valuable resource if you’re all comfortable talking about difficult topics!)

It can be really scary, tackling something new and out of your comfort zone. We exist in a hyper-critical environment, and it is nigh impossible to put yourself out there without worrying about what other people will say or how a fandom might react. We want our work and effort to be appreciated, but this opens us up to criticism, some of which may be cruel and intimidating. My best advice is to find one or two people you trust, run ideas and rough drafts by them. Read up on what you want to write about, but don’t be too hard on yourself. The creative process needs to be at least partially enjoyable, otherwise you’re likely to stop creating altogether!

And hey, if you ever wanna toss the idea-football around, my inbox and DMs are always open. ^^

[sellringsonconsignment]

BUSINESS TIME: WE ALL DO IT…

Being your own boss is awesome, It has a heap of pros, (like pyjama thursdays, and unlimited biscuits) but working for yourself also means that you work for you, and as a boss (I’m just going to say it) sometimes I can be a bit of a tyrant. I’m far harder on myself than I would be to anyone else who worked for me, so here are a few life lessons I’ve learned along the way…

STOP COMPARING YOURSELF

I love looking at what my peers are doing, it’s inspiring, it pushes me to make my business better, and it’s really interesting to see how different business models work. What I’ve had to stop myself doing is comparing myself, it’s so easy to get really disheartened with the ‘but their website is better’ and ‘oh look how many Facebook fans they have’ thoughts, but the truth is every business is different, we grow at different rates, with different budgets and skill sets. Rather than focusing on the negatives, think about it logically, and if you think you need to make a change, make it a goal with a set time for when you’d like to achieve it.

YOU CANNOT DO EVERYTHING

The challenge with being a one-man-band is that you can’t just specialise in one thing. You end up being an office manager/PR pro/graphic designer/book keeper and tea maker, but the chances are you only excel at one or two of those things. My advice is to be a total boss in the things you can do, and don’t be afraid to ask for help on the things you can’t. And don’t put the difficult tasks off. I don’t know anyone who enjoys doing their tax return, but don’t wait till the last minute to tackle it. It won’t be as bad as you think it is, and once it’s done, you’ve got more time to spend on the stuff you love.

DON’T TAKE CRITICISM TO HEART

I do everything I can to make customers happy, but inevitably, very occasionally things go wrong, (postal delays, faults, etc). Most people get in touch, and the problem is sorted almost immediately, but there will always be somebody who never contacts you, then leaves you a bad (and sometimes unfair) review, and it can be upsetting. But do not lose sleep over it, if there’s a lesson to be learnt from it, take it, but if not, just pick yourself up and move on. You can achieve so much more by focusing on the many postives than sulking about a teeny tiny negative.

LISTEN TO YOUR CUSTOMERS

Constructive feedback is so useful, it’s helped me make my product descriptions much more accurate, and has even led to whole new ranges. Friends make really great guinea pigs, and if you’ve got good ones, they’ll be honest with you rather than telling you what you want to hear. Social media’s a really great tool for getting opinions too, we’ll often test out new designs on instagram to gauge feedback before launching. Just be careful not to get too carried away with one strong opinion.

GIVE YOURSELF A BREAK

When you’re working alone, aside from the tummy rumbling, there’s no one else to remind you that you should probably take a rest from staring into your laptop. And let’s be honest, lots of people in ‘real jobs’ think we��re just lazing around, sipping herbal tea and setting up instagram photos all day, (which is only partially true). In all seriousness, looking after yourself is better for your business, start well rested, and take a break whenever you need it. I find that I can start to lag around 3pm of an afternoon, I get post-lunch slump, and feel my eyelids getting heavy, so just taking a 20 minute stroll round the park makes a huge difference. I also have a host of different Spotify playlists to choose from depending on the task I’m doing, or my mood. Generally it’s pretty laid back music that’s not too distracting when I need to get stuff done, but when I’m feeling sluggish, the Northern Soul and Disco comes out, and the real joy of a home office is singing along as loud as you like.

Source link

from Diamonds & Jewelry Consignment Shop https://sellringsonconsignment.com/top-posts/business-time-we-all-do-it/

[meganjnero]

Misconceptions About Circle Lenses

1.Myth: Circle lenses are bad for your eyes! Some people go blind from them! Reality: The chance of going blind with legit circle lenses is the same chance as with any normal pair of contacts. If you’ve got common sense and take care of your lenses, the chance of getting any serious eye problems is verrry low. Because circle lenses are bought online without provisional advice from an optician, ignorant people don’t research how to properly care for their lenses and just stick ‘em in. Your eyes are precious- regardless of what or how you’re putting lenses on your delicate eyeballs, treat them like sacred things!! Never be casual about it, ever.

The main problem here with these RARE reported cases of people hurting their eyes or even going blind with circle lenses can be due to a number of factors: not taking care of the lenses correctly which can lead to eye infection, storing them in water or other non-saline solution, keeping them in for days at a time without taking them out, and most importantly buying from shady shops. Some stores out there are shady and will sell fake circle lenses. Always be sure to buy from a trusted store with lots of reviews and postive feedback. Research online for places people reccommend and have reviewed. Common sense is needed when wanting to put something on your delicate eyeballs… so always make sure you can trust what you’re getting.

2.Myth: You shouldn’t wear circle lenses any longer than a few hours. Reality: Yes, you shouldn’t wear circle lenses for any longer than around 6-8 hours. But this goes for ALL lenses. Your eyes need to breathe. Regardless of what type of lens you keep in your eye, your eyes need to have time to breathe and your lenses also need to time to soak in a sanitising solution to keep clean and prevent infection. Never sleep with your lenses in, as this can lead to really unpleasant results.

Most circle lenses are around the same diameter as regular lenses, but unlike normal coloured contact lenses which are only coloured around the real part of the iris, circle lenses are completely coloured, giving the illusion of larger irises. So unless you get the extreme super-size circle lenses, circle lenses allow breathability for your eyes as much as regular contacts do. But the supersize ones are fine, just not reccommended for everyday use.

Also, never wear lenses that have been worn for more than 1-2 months of solid use; throw them out and get a fresh pair.

3.Myth: Circle lenses are illegal! Reality: Circle lenses are not illegal- to wear. They are however  illegal to sell within the USA. Unless they have been FDA approved, circle lenses cannot be sold legally in the USA- and the vast majority of them do not pass the FDA requirements. This is mainly due to the fact that lens sellers have to sell them like medical devices, and thus have to give the wearers a proper eye prescription before selling. Buying circle lenses casually over the counter without an eye checkup is not allowed; and well, most western opticians do not sell circle lenses- so we’re stuck with finding out our prescription separately and buying our circle lenses online.

Most circle lenses come in a variety of prescription strengths, individually for each eye. If you need a prescription, you must get your eyes checked by your optician so that you know the correct number codes to order for your circle lenses when you buy them online. Failure to buy the correct strengths for your eyes can result in weakening your eyesight with long-term use.

For more reassurance on the matter:

   I have a wide variety of different circle lenses from lovely.i.for.all on ebay. They’ve not caused me any trouble so far and in fact this particular pair in light violet have been so comfy I don’t even feel them in my eyes!    Be sure to thoroughly checkout negative feedback on circle lenses from popular stores. A lot of the time people give them negative feedback for being either too difficult to put in their eye or they ordered the wrong prescription- these are not fault of the lenses, but from lack of training with using contacts.    My optician did a series of eye tests on me while I was wearing my circle lenses (after nearly 2 years wearing them). He was very nervous at first until he started testing, and realised they were surprisingly good on my eyes. All his worries went away immediately.    Normal contact lenses, of multiple brands, have been a real pain for my eyes, often leaving them red, sore and irritated after only 2-3 hours of wear. This never happened once I switched to circle lenses. They seem to be made of a thinner, more gentle material that doesn’t grate against my eye socket like my normal lenses did.    I have many lolita friends who wear circle lenses frequently and have done so for years.    You can see my Circle Lenses “How To” post for more details.

Source: http://princess-peachie.tumblr.com/post/46457285972/misconceptions-about-circle-lenses