#refuled

[khaire-traveler]

Don't sacrifice your own well-being for someone else's. At the end of the day, if you don't have yourself, you have nothing. You can't keep filling the cups of others if your own cup is bone dry.

Edit: Cooler way of saying this that I thought of is "Don't sacrifice yourself at someone else's altar."

[nocternalrandomness]

Tupolev Tu-160 Bomber preparing to refuel over Russia

[aita-alternia]

AITA for culling a mutant wiggler?

I (10, F, jade) was working in the caverns in a supervisory role when I noticed one of my co-workers secreting away a wiggler. This is not as uncommon in my cavern as it admittedly should be; the caverns are much bigger than most people think they are and there are many trolls working in mine in particular, and it is not openly talked about, especially around me as I am in a position of authority. But I am aware that a handful of my compatriots will hide one or two wigglers they find that they believe will be culled for some reason or another, such as a benign mutation or simply being small for their age.

Usually these situations will resolve themselves without my needing to interfere, as these jades will either manage to raise the wigglers healthy enough that they can slip them into the trials or find them a lusus elsewhere, or they will simply expire naturally. There have been cases where the jades have been caught, and they have invariably ended with the wigglers culled every time, as well as the jades responsible, and even some who were not. When I was a young adolescent just starting in the caverns, a group of mutant wigglers were found by the drones and culled. No individual jade would come forward and take responsibility for this crime, so about a two dozen of the trolls in the vicinity were culled indiscriminately and senselessly to make sure the culprit was taken care of.

It was a massacre that could have been avoided if they had just done as they were supposed to do. I do not tend to go out of my way to apprehend the trolls who partake in this practice, because I have no desire to see so many of my fellow jades culled ever again. If I do not see it, then there is no need for me to intervene. However, this jade is young and idealistic, and she was sloppy. I witnessed her removing the mutant wiggler from the caverns, and if I saw her, then the chances that a drone or another jade saw as well were very high. There was only one course of action, and that was to put a stop to her not-conspicuous-enough getaway quietly and discretely, and cull the wiggler on the spot. The young jade did not take this well, as she burst into tears and started screaming. I was forced to knock her unconscious in order to prevent further detection and disruption. I handed her over to one of her workmates and advised them to give her a talking to and place her on the right path.

I told my matesprit (10, F, jade) about this event, and while she says she understands why I did what I did, I believe she may be looking at me differently. AITA?

[lemongogo]

[teddyreblogslotf]

.

[abbygail-ph]

𝒸𝑜𝒻𝒻𝑒𝑒 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝒾𝓃𝓈

(𝒾 𝒿𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝒹𝑜𝓃𝓉 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝓀𝒶𝓈𝒾 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝓉𝓊𝓇𝓃 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝒻𝑜𝓇𝓉 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝓊, 𝓈𝑜 𝒾 𝒻𝓁𝒾𝓅𝓅𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓅𝒶𝑔𝑒𝓈 & 𝒾𝓂 𝑔𝓁𝒶𝒹 𝒾 𝒹𝒾𝒹)

“𝗙𝗹𝗶𝗽𝗽𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗵𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘀𝗲 𝗽𝗮𝗴𝗲𝘀 𝗵𝗮𝘀 𝗻𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗯𝗲𝗲𝗻 𝘀𝗼 𝗵𝗲𝗹𝗽𝗳𝘂𝗹, 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄? 𝗪𝗲𝗹𝗹, 𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝘄𝗼 𝗰𝗿𝘆𝗽𝘁𝗶𝗰 𝗽𝗵𝗿𝗮𝘀𝗲𝘀 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘆𝗼𝘂: ‘𝗮𝗻 𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗳𝘂𝗹 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗯𝗹𝗲’ 𝗼𝗿 ‘𝗮 𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗱 𝗳𝘂𝗹𝗹 𝗼𝗳 𝗽𝗲𝗮𝗰𝗲’.”

remember the old story of the artist and the coffee? a painter was drinking coffee in a french café, one of his companions became enraged and threw his coffee against the wall, creating an ugly stain. Taking his paints, the artist created a beautiful mural that incorporated stains into the scene

these things can work together for good in his plans

[princemick]

a 9.5 sec pit feels so long

[vickozone]

Question. ☝️

What does “be c🍺reful“ mean

[outofthedeck]

To say there is a "standard version" of pretty much any language (except for maybe French, which is literally regulated by the French government) is to do a racism. Every single language has dialects that vary between the regions and the people that speak it, and to say there is one "standard" would be to mark those dialects as unstandard, and thus lesser.

This already happens with African American Vernacular English (AAVE), which is often seen as an inferior form of English. Schools used to (and probably still do, let's be frank) try to train their students out of using AAVE at all, which was a way to attack African American culture due to the inherit ties between language and culture.

[tarfeeder]

Morning nicotine and tar refull

[tfp-orion-and-megatronus]

ORION, an onion is a type of food we have on our planet, it helps our bodies refule although its no recommended to eat it on its own for its very strong taste, we simply mix it up in other dishes most of the time

Oh, thank you!

[illdiealonelyguy]

Autopilot pt.2 (Spencer Reid x BAU!reader)

Summary: Tuesday has come, and step one of withdrawing you from being anxiously caught up in your routines includes Spencer taking you out for lunch. During this lunch break, deeper feelings begin to arise between you both,but you both remain oblivious.

THIS CAN SORT OF BE READ AS A STAND-ALONE STORY! I literally hate myself for this but im losing motivation to write these... probs shouldnt have made my 2nd piece of writing a series... but oh well!

Part 1 can be found here: Autopilot Pt.1

Tags: Fluff

Wordcount: 1.6k

TUESDAY

There's a bit more pep in your step when you arrive at work on Tuesday morning. There's a muted excitement you're not typically used to bubbling gently in your stomach, impatience whirring around in your brain as you wish for the afternoon to arrive as fast as it can. To combat trying to get rid of the morning, you make a beeline towards the kitchenette by the doors of the bullpen when you first arrive to make yourself a cup of coffee. Yes, coffee, to try and fuel yourself up so you can delve into the case files still piled haphazardly on your desk from the day before.

Thoughtfully, you make Spencer a cup, too. You noticed him at his desk when you first walked in, but a bashfullness stopped you from going over to talk to him. You wernt necessarily embarrased about unloading your worries onto him yesterday, but because of the heartfelt concern he displayed back at you, you were afraid you couldn't confidently approach him without your face turning red or you stuttering nervously over your words.

Nevertheless, with a cup of coffee in each hand, you make your way over to his desk.

Engrossed in his own case files, he didnt even notice you beside him until you placed the coffee you made for him on his desk. Humorously, like your reaction yesterday, he jumped slightly at your seemingly sudden presence. His eyes caught yours, and a bright warm smile washed over his face, making your insides flip slightly.

"Oh, hey- hi -good morning!" he blabbered hurriedly, eyes wideneing in something you thought was his own embarrasment. "You made me coffee? Wait- you made yourself coffee?" He notices, eyebrows arching upwards in surprise and his head nodding towards the other cup, which you place on your own desk.

"Good morning, Spencer," you reply with shy ernest, "I thought i'de try it today. I need to really concentrate on getting the rest of these case files filled out. Especially before lunch. Are we - uh - still on for that, by the way?" you ask carefully, not getting your hopes up just in case it slipped his mind. Or he didnt really mean it. Or he didnt really want to. You curse your brain for being so pessimistic.

"Of course! I'm looking forward to it. There's this little cafe across the road if you're okay with that? I think you'll like the atmosphere of it." he offers, arching his head to the side in question.

"That sounds great," you reply, "i'll make a start on these files right away, and that way i can hopefully be finished around 1pm if you want to head out then?" you question back.

"1pm sounds perfect," he nods and smiles over the boarder seperating his desk and yours, before turning back to his workload.

12:57pm

Sighing loudly in relief, you plonk your ballpoint pen harder than you mean to onto your desk and close the last of the case files. The noise caught Spencer's attention as he peered at you.

"You done?" he asked, closing his own case file and placing it gently on the pile of all his other completed files.

"Finally." you breath, and he chuckles at your exhausted expression.

"C'mon then, let's get you refuled and start phase one of breaking that harsh routine of yours," he announces, standing up and wrapping his purple scarf around his neck before putting on his navy coat.

"Let's do it." You reply, standing up and putting your own coat on.

1:08pm

Not long later, you find yourself sitting at a cafe table opposite Spencer. During the short walk to the cafe, a muted nervousness settled itself in your chest. Not because you were alone with Spencer, but because you were generally alone with another person. This meant you had to come up with smart and meaningful things to say, whilst trying not to stutter over your words. You always prefered going out with at least three people for this exact reason. That way, you could input little 'mmm's and 'ahh's where needed, as you liked to listen rather than talk. Or maybe because no one really seemed to be interested in you enough to even let you talk?

Anyways.

While you and Spencer ate your lunch and sipped your warm beverages, you didnt feel that pressure to find something interesting to say. Any silences were comfortable, and you were thankful for that.

"You know," Spencer starts as he places his coffee mug back on the mahogany table, "Although we talk a lot at work, i've realised i dont know as much as i could know about you."

You consider this before giving a vague reply "There's not much to know, to be honest with you. Outside work i don't exactly do much."

"Well- you read, don't you? I've seen you engrossed in countless novels when we're headed home from a case on the jet."

"I do like reading. I suppose not as much as you do," You both chuckle at this, " I don't know, i don't think much defines me other than anything i read or watch that resonates with me."

"That's okay," Spencer replies, "Oftentimes we engage ourselves in the media that we find pieces of ourselves in. I think that's why i'm so in love with Arthur Conan Doyle's Sherlock Holmes novels."

"Well, you practically are a living breathing Sherlock Holmes. Thank god by the way. I dont know what we'd do without you or that IQ of 187!" Spencer looks down and blushes at your statement, and you smile sweetly at him. You really, truely hope he believes how much he's needed. Not just for his brain, but his entire being.

"You remind me of Dr. Watson." Spencer states, remains of a grin still evident in the way his eyes crease slighly in the corners, and in the way his dimples pop.

"What? The less smart and slightly irrelevant one?" You laugh.

"No! no, you interpret him wrong. He's none of those things. In fact, he serves as an anchor for Holmes. He grounds him, motivates him and all around keeps him going. He sees the side to Holmes that no one else can really see, and although it may not be overwhelmingly obvious, Holmes is greatful for that." Spencer concludes ernestly, hands waving about as he so desperately tries to get his point across to you.

"So, you're saying i ground you, motivate you, and see another side of you that not many others see?" You question sheepishly.

"Well... yeah." He replies softly.

"Oh." You splutter, taken a back slightly at his honesty.

Over the course of his admission, Spencer's face had taken on a pinkish colour, which you found endearing. He clearly had just admitted something which you thought, or hoped, had a deeper meaning layered under the disguise of comparing the pair of you to Holmes and Watson. Best friends bound together in tales of fiction.

Only you secretly began hoping he felt more than that towards you.

He can't possibly, though. You know that Spencer's one for following the rule book, so it's not like he would abandon it and throw it out a window for the prospect of being with you.

You don't even know why you're contemplating this. It's ridiculous. You've been friends for years, yes, but it doesnt mean he could possibly like you any more than just a friend. Not you.

You shake your head as if physically dispelling this argument from your mind.

"Where did you just go?" Spencer asks, concern lacing his soft voice.

"Uh, nowhere. Sorry, i think the adrenaline from the coffee has worn off." You lie, while avoiding his eye contact by peering around the cafe. String lights hung on each of the red brick walls, creating a comfortable, ambient atmosphere. The dark green of the plants scattered around on shelves and by the glass door added a depth to the place, making it feel more homely. After a quick evaluation of your surroundings, your eyes find Spencer's face again.

Tentatively, Spencer nods. He knows that it takes about 10 hours for the full effects of caffeine to fully wear off, but he doesnt raise this point with you. Instead, he checks his watch. "Ah... we should probably head back to the BAU."

Begrudgingly, you both stand up to leave. Spencer offers to pay, and after trying to argue him out of doing so, he does it anyways. What a gentleman.

On the walk back, Spencer wonders if he made you uncomfortable with his comments. Comparing you two to two characters who have been accused by many fans of the novels for being in love, well, he hoped you didnt pick up on that aspect of it.

He can't say it hadnt crossed his mind, though. The excitement fluttering in his stomach everytime he saw you, how you managed to improve his mood so fast. How you listened to him speak with interest, not just because you had to. It meant a lot to him.

But you probably dont feel the same way. You can't. There's no way a person like you could, or should, have feelings for a person like him.

1:48pm

Having arrived back at the bureau, both you and Spencer settle back down at your respective desks, ready to dive back into work.

"Thank you for this afternoon, Spencer. It was oddly refreshing to get out of this office air for once."

"Of course. Thank you for... being such great company." He adds awkwardly, giving you one of those close-mouthed smiles.

You nod, and before returning your gaze to your desk, Derek catches your eye across the bullpen, nodding his head towards Spencer, and then to you, with his eyebrows raised and his mouth curled in a knowing smirk. What could he possibly know?

Your eyebrows knit and an embarrased smile forms itself on your face.

This was going to be an interesting week.

[weasleydailyprophet]

Remus : Dora, please be ca--- Tonks : *Falls from the stairs* Remus : --reful

[knockouts-highbeams]

*I run out of nowhere like the first time, but instead hitting the doorway.*

YOU! I HAVE RETURNED! REFULE, BUFF YOURSELF, STAY FABULOUS!

UNTIL WE MEET AGAIN!

*I bolt like last time.*

*Knockout blinked, his optics wide as the person rushed past him and hurled good wishes at him. He then rolled his optics and went back to reading his medical records.*

[shorterstrides-fasterpace]

Climbing week 7!!

1) 5.8 up-down-up (5°) (3min)

2) 5.8 (stumped), 5.9/5/10 rainbow (50%), 5.9 (25%) 5min (5°)

3) 5.7 up-down-up (3min) (5°)

4) 5.7 up, 1/2 down, 3/4 up (3min, full effort) (5°)

5) 5.8 up-down-up, skate-deck/slab. (-5°)

And off to work! Definitely could have used a bigger smoothie to refule 😅 oh boy!! Spinach, chia, milk, protein powder. My arms feel it!!!

[goth1c-pinki3-pi3]

raw dogged my brain for a part two right now. enjoy the 600 words my brain came up with. :)

part 1

Now Keith was, of course, smart. He had to be to get into the Garrison solely on a scholarship (the fact that he only stayed because of shiro was because of the fights, and not his intelligence), and then afterwards he was taught by his mother the basics of surviving and living.

Keith had always had a feeling when it came to danger, and seeing someone on the other side of the road run off after seeing the guy standing in front of him did not make Keith feel any better. If anything it made him feel worse. Grabbing his knife properly, Keith kind of hoped he could get this over with fast.

The guy started laughing, and took out what looked like a gun, so keith took a proper fighting stance, ready to bolt left or right depending on where it looked like the guy woild shoot. not like it mattered, the thing that shot oht was a capsile of joker gas (not like keith knew it was called that). Luckily, keith got out of the way before the capsule hit the ground and appeared behind the joker.

Holding the joker by his neck, Keith put his blade to the mans neck. "Who are you?" Keith hissed into the mans ear. "Oh ho ho!!! A little newbie then huh?" Joker taunted, as if he wasn't being held at Keiths knife point. "Shut up, who, are, you?" Keiths voice somehow got deeper when he asked the Joker who he was.

"I'm the Joker!! hehehehHaHAHAHHA" The joker laughed out, making keith wonder what was funny. Shockingly, he recognized the name beyond the card from a deck. Ignoring the Jokers laughter, he thought back to one of his friends.

'Key, I need you to promise one thing.' His friend said. They met when keith was refuling gas into his bike and became close, meeting up every week while keith stayed near the garrison. 'I'm leaving to go back home, back in Gotham. If you ever get anywhere near Gotham, I need you to stay away from the Joker and Arkham.'

Confused, Keith looked into his friends eyes. They were green, with a couple flecks of blue. 'Yeah, sure. Any reason why?' Keiths friend's form sagged in relief, causing keiths confusing to grow ten fold. 'He, that man.. He has done horrible stuff. He hurt me, and I ended up losing my family and myself as a result.. I don't want you to lose yourself as well..'

Keith could tell his friend wasn't telling the full truth. But it was close enough to the truth that Keith understood. 'Yeah, yeah alright. But if i get close to him on accident I'll kill him for you.' Laughing, keiths friend thiught he was joking, 'Yeah, sure you will Key.'

Keith wasnt joking. he was dead serious. 'It's a promise then, Jay.'

Thinking back on it, Keith maybe should have thought harder about his choice but considering he spent most of his late teen and early twenties in an inter galactic space war, he was a little desensitized to murder. Which ended in a dead man in an alleyway. And, a communicator call from his mom.

Although getting a call from his mom was normal, it was some bad timing. “Keith, I’m with the so called, Justice League, I think, and they’re looking for more information on the Blade of Marmora. They have this, teleporting tech like a teleduv without the whole, portal thing. Could you come over?”

Looking down at the dead Joker corpse, Keith debated for a second wondering if it would be a good idea to decapitate him as a present for his friend Jason. “Uh, sure. I guess. Give me maybe ten minutes, and send me the location for the teleporting thing.”

About thirteen minutes later, Keith makes his way through the Watch Tower, holding a still bleeding head of the Joker by his hair. Ending in the meeting room, his mother greeting him as if he wasn’t holding the decapitated head of a person with him at all.

Saying hi back, Keith looked at the shell shocked faces of everyone around him before looking back at his mom, he said “How quick can this be? I need to give this,” he holds up jokers head, “To a friend. After I find him.”