#running slow on things lately

[greenheartart]

[hyakunana]

The Former Most Miserable Man That Ever Stepped in DGP is found saving the future with a shield and FIVE CHAINSAWS

[kaeyachi]

Kaeya had always been an efficient and hard-working individual (he had to be to support Diluc in the background as his brother rose thru the ranks after all).

He has so much free time because he completes all his work way ahead of schedule. And if he still has enough time, he adds more to the workload in secret.

And once all of that was done and over with, he makes time for everyone. He has to. He feels as if every moment has to be given to someone else.

No one knows how he does it. No one has to know.

Every mission has a dozen strategies in line, and every battle plan is made with efficiency in mind. His perfect record will not be tarnished. He can't risk it (even if it baffles others that he would willingly activate a ruin guard just to prevent a failed mission. Jean disagrees with his methods, but Kaeya can say that the results say otherwise)

He needs to be quick.

Efficient.

Perfect.

And so he comes and goes like the wind.

Kaeya values time because he knew every second counted. He can't just stand there as if he were frozen. Time could run out in an instant.

Kaeya had only been late once his entire life.

He'd rather he never be late ever again.

It took one day of being of being imperfect for everything to fall apart. On that tragic day...had he gotten there on time... then maybe...

.

.

.

" Come on, let's get moving, traveler. We're not frozen in place after all. " Kaeya teasingly says. He stiffles a giggle at the traveler's exhasperated sigh.

"Yeah yeah, we've heard enough of you calling us a slacker. Can't you be a bit more patient?" Paimon whines at him.

Kaeya snorts, but acquiesces, hiding the shaking of his hands at the thought of being idle.

He imagines hearing a clock ticking.

Kaeya knows that that is his own problem. He tries his hardest to relax as he waits for the traveler to finish whatever they're making on the alchemy table because, seriously, it is supposed to be a relaxing day. There's nothing major going on, and his schedule is once again empty as intended. What's the hurry?

Kaeya taps his foot on the ground as he waits. He wishes he could take his own damn advice when he tells others to relax.

[lobotomize-d]

Today was freezing cold

[boxwinebaddie]

uncle neen!!! welcome back omg i was so sad to see u disappear </3 hyh !!! i had a question i asked last time but i was wondering since ur rewriting ur fics, are u planning on posting them on tumblr? or on ao3? pls be kind to urself too<33

good MORNING, lovie!!!!~ <3 c':

( or whatever time it is, where you are at the moment! )

i'm very excited to announce that you are my very FIRST new ask message on my brand new blog!

( teri is my first follower; ly ter. <33 o//3//o )

***long overdue UN ramble-bramble under the cut. xx

i /do/ miss my six hundred bajillion ask memes and am mourning the loss of all my online creations and great joys as a deranged southpark fanfiction author and the legacy i built with my tiny, gay weird hands

( i will go into it another time, but i had a very, very frightening bipolar episode surrounding my blog and my role on here as a writer, friend and mentor to you all, deleted all my things in a horrible panic, was able to recover them...but in the -- what i hope is the *very last* -- after shock of my episode...i got very scared, very sad and deleted both my dearly treasured and beloved, beautifully cult followed by many of you and other ghosts of sp style fanatics past ao3 account**

**( with peppermint on it at 13k likes which...oh my god, please be gentle with me, that was a very, very hard blow and rough realization for me and i am sorry to everyone who loved that fanfiction and wanted to go back and read it for posperity and personal comfort...i miss her too; rest in peace, pep, my first born. my sweet girl. </3 )

...and most tragically of all, i deleted my tumblr blog, with over one hundred pages of carefully curated content surrounding my sp aus, your lovely, insightful and thoughtful questions and inquiries, also typed with your tiny, weird gay hands answered, in turn, with mine, torched the ev. of those memories in the final blast and lost my window into your world through that medium...

...which is literally heartbreaking to me, because more than even my silly fanfictions or my blog, what i loved to do, was talk to all of you and read your wonderful messages each day and remind myself of why i should be here and continue to do what i do. </333 :'''c

BUT! my darlings, as ravenstan would say, 'it's always darkest before crimson dawn', for the very first time in several weeks ( which, i fear, and i was, full of fear and horrible self loathing/dread every waking and nightmarish moment ), last night, i cried for a very, very, very, long time, held myself together in the broken places -- told myself and the girl i was that i loved her and i was going to take care of us and be brave -- and broke the fever ( a little off key like jersey kyle, but very lovely nonetheless; love you tone deaf king. x my sboyf. )

today, i woke up this morning and slept...PEACEFULLY and woke up PERFECTLY HAPPY AND RESTED...

AND SMILED. QUITE. WIDE!!!!~ :D

and that is a baby step, but it is a step in the right direction and also almost wanted to make me weep like a baby again because i literally have not felt happy or like i do not hate myself for like, i shit you not, over like 15-20 days...it was frightening and fucking horrible! SLAY!

nevertheless ( or the most, finally ) i am excited to welcome in a new era/year of change on my blog and within myself; which is an era of peppermint flavored 'hope i'm healing' in a delicious rem(ember) font.

unfortunately, because i nuked my ao3 account, i do not currently one atm, but am in the process of recovering it.

( i'm not condoning any kind of rude/uncivilized behavior bc people are allowed to do anything they want -- but i'd really like to get my user back and would appreciate it a lot if no one used it to create another ao3 account just because it would be confusing for my readers and disheartening to me to not be boxwinebaddie anymore. )

until then, i will be writing/drafting rem(ember) in my messy google docs, am storyboarding everything to the best of my ability ( which is not perfect, but nothing is -- except stan and kyle to each other -- but god loves a trier, which is why he hates me: i prefer hell where it's drier -- that way my girlfail guylinea will not run. xx )

KALE SEITAN! ;)

posting little snippets of it on here for all of you, probably put it here on my tumblr and post it up to ao3 if i can regain my account/one in general ( i am a little worried that because of how long it's been, the loss of all my followers and, what i assume, is a decreased public or tiktok generated interest in sp, it will do poorly; rip </3 )

-- but the point is...that i want to start doing stuff for myself now. and not because i think i should or create unnecessary stress/sadness surrounding my strength or weakness as a writer or person ( or like, beat the living shit out of myself every single day anymore )...

...so i am writing it slowly, carefully, synthesizing all the info i gathered from over a year of answering your questions ( which helped me develop my sp au styles and their worlds into the lovely, seemingly breathing paper machslayed things they are now ), am going to write the fanfiction i always/wanted/ to write ( i’ve always wanted to rewrite RM, but was so busy and overwhelmed with my blog/my irl stuff that i couldn't )

and i'm calling it...

<3

p.s. ( i love you ): i am going to give my grandmother a copy of the first chapter of peppermint for christmas because i wanted to do something special/sentimental for her and secretly push the gay middle school style agenda ( she is actually very woke and thought my uncle might be gay for a while when he was younger, haha xx ), but i want to give them different names, so that on the off chance it gets passed off to my mom, my dad or manages to travel by world of mouth ( my grandma has a tendency to gab, but i love her a lot ) that it can't specifically be traced back to my dead ao3 or my blog.

so if any one has any ideas for silly interesting names i could give my sons, names for other characters or south park in gen. hit me up! <33

thank you for your interest in my work -- and in me, in general. i love you all dearly, i hope you heal ( i know you will ) and smile, pendejos because got a lot coming up on that crimson dawn and a lot of crazy shit coming down on that *jersey i won't say i'm in luh megara vc*

~SCHARLET sLUt~

cheers! mazel! ;) xx

-uncle nina, in her healing era <3

[fisheito]

@murdertramp25 replied to your post “excuse me blade, sir, drioid,maam, why are u so...”:

i stg Blade sneaks up on you like that tho!! im like 'haha yeah idk blade is okay i guess' and then i see him and im like '!!!! babey! baby boy!!! WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN!!!'

​i'm stuck in a slow burn with all these goddamm pnjpegs and i don't know when the oh. is gonna hit this is a neverending daymare

[hobisexually]

I feel so, so old but also so, so young and it’s starting to freak me out

[marlenacantswim]

Daisy Steiner and "The Typewriter Strikes Back" for the fic ask :)

The Typewriter Strikes Back

Tim's lips leave Daisy's feeling warm, and with poised dramatic steps, he roams onto the elevator, finally turning to her one last time.

"I love you!" She cries, hands and arms utterly helpless as they hug the typewriter close.

Tim smirks— "I know." They hold eye contact through the very last second, all the way until the doors break their line of sight and the elevator begins its descent.

A strange, guttural, chittering noise escapes Brian's throat, until he coughs it away. "Sorry, allergies. The dust—"

"No, I know, Brian," Daisy assures, "'S alright."

He bounces on his heels. "So are— are you two, erm..." His hand gestures around his chin— "You two really a couple now?"

Daisy's expression hardens, before a realization hits. An "Oh!" preludes her laughter, which would sound forced if it were coming out of anyone else's mouth. "B-because we? Oh ho, no, no no no, that was just a reference! Y'know, Star Wars. The scene where— no, you've seen it." With her hands occupied by the heavy contraption, her impassioned gesturing comes through in erratic sways of her whole body instead. She wiggles her head back and forth, seemingly pleased; "Just a tiddly bit between friends, yeah? Mates. Chaps. He likes to do it whenever he descends. Elevators, escalators— one time he did it down the stairs, but he completely toppled because he, um... went down backwards!"

Brian's eyes narrow: "The whole exchange?"

"Starting from the kiss!"

"E— every time?"

[peachcitt]

heads up greatest hits chapter is coming late today

[tittyinfinity]

I've had 16GB RAM in this computer the whole time?? I thought it was just 4gb. I was like how in the hell is my laptop surviving anything that I do to it

I'm realizing I got it mixed up with my tablet that has 4gb of ram lmao

[readwritealldayallnight]

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, who from the moment he laid eyes on you, has only ever referred to you as his wife

You, this sweet little thing, running through the halls on base one day when you turn a corner and nearly run headfirst into the Lieutenant, who’s walking alongside Soap

“Oh! Sorry about that, sir.” You told him, never slowing down in your hurried pace as you snuck around his large frame and continued down towards whatever you were evidently late for

The only reason his gaze had followed your retreating form, was that unlike everyone else, you had met his eyes when you spoke, even smiled warmly up at him

That one smile and he was done for

“Who was tha’?” The sergeant had questioned, seeing Ghost’s attention still fixated on you.

“Think that was my wife.”

“Yer what?!”

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, who makes it a point to let everyone know that you are in fact his wife

Well, everyone apart from you apparently

He would certainly never abuse his position as a Lieutenant, but some new recruit had the audacity to whistle at you as you walked by? Well 100 laps around the base don’t exactly run themselves

Another soldier saved you a seat next to him in a briefing? He can enjoy scrubbing toilet seats for the next week in that case

Someone actually had the bollocks to ask you for your phone number? Perfect, he needed a volunteer for demonstrating hand to hand combat to the recruits, medics on standby of course

By the time he properly introduces himself to you for the first time, it’s understood by everyone else around that you are, for all intents and purposes, Mrs Riley

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, who listens to you tell him your name in a voice that resembles music to his ears, hardly bothering to remember your last name, seeing as it’ll be changing soon enough anyway

“You can call me anythin’ you want, love.” His deep, gravelly voice had sent shivers down your spine, cheeky smirk widening beneath his mask. “So long as you call me, that is.”

By the end of your first date, (you were sitting alone in the dining hall and he wordlessly joined you what do you mean this isn’t a date) he’s wondering if you’ll insist on a ceremony or if he can sweep you away to the nearest courthouse and make this official, slipping a ring onto you finger and his cock into you

You had laughed when he put his number into your phone and named himself ‘Husband’, certain that the man was only messing with you, some kind of hazing that you apparently weren’t aware Lieutenants played on the new communications hire, but it was only fair seeing as he’d saved your contact under ‘Wife’

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, who is over the moon every time you play along, even if he knows you believe you’re only playing

“Ach, thanks Lt. Just what I needed.” Soap said, seeing Ghost’s approaching form enter the common room, holding a steaming cup of tea in each hand

“S’for my wife. Get your own.” The older man gruffly replied, sliding the mug onto the side table next to where you’re curled up on the couch, reading a book

“Aw, thank you honey.” You giggled, smiling up as him with an expression he thinks would taste even sweeter than honey if he were to run his tongue across your upturned lips

“Happy wife, happy life, sergeant.” Ghost shrugged, ignoring the other man’s pout, landing next to you and reaching an arm behind you across the back of the couch

“God, maybe I really should keep you.” You’d laughed, reaching a leg out to dig your socked toes into his muscled thigh, teasing him

Grasping your foot into his large, strong hands, he began massaging it, uncaring that you were only two of the many people in the common room, not when you looked at him like that, smiling together as though you truly were nothing more than a married couple

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, who surprised you one day, insisting he needed your help with something crucial off base, and drove you to a local shopping outlet to look at none other than dresses

“Is there some sort of party happening?” You’d questioned, confused out of your mind

“Suppose you could consider it a party.” He’d answered, leading you through the many racks of dresses, you noticed were all, very conveniently, white

“Now while you’re lookin’ through dress sizes,” he’d added, taking your left hand in both of his. “You know your ring size? Got my own shoppin’ to do ‘round here.”

Series masterlist

[yesterdarling]

How’s life?

Depends on if you mean real life or the little idealized version where I don't take work into account

[classyrbf]

dad bod!toji who’s still the big, muscular man he is but you can tell he’s gotten older and his metabolism has slowed down a little bit. He’s gotten chubbier in his arms, thighs, tummy. Not to mention, he’s started to gray and grow stubble on his face, the perfect salt and pepper mix. Toji says he hates it, always moaning and groaning about needing to hit the gym but you…? You fucking love it. It takes everything in you not to ravish his right then and there, wanting to pounce on him every second of the day. You’re always kissing up on him, grabbing on him, dragging him to the laundry room while the kids watching tv so you could have a quickie. And he’s so confused on where all this extra energy and affection has sprouted from, but he loves it. You’re always so eager for him, fucking your self on his cock, him waking up to you kissing his neck and stroking his dick, dropping to your knees and giving him head without his asking. He wonders what he’s done to deserve all of it.

He’s standing in the mirror one late night with his shirt off, examining just how chubby he’s gotten. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t a little insecure, thinking how gorgeous you are and how you shouldn’t settle for him. “I’m losing myself,” he grumbles. “What’s going on, baby?” You walk in the room, a smile immediately on your face when you see his shirt is off, definitely a sight to see. “I need to head to the gym is what’s going on.” He flexes his muscles in the mirror. You giggle and walk up behind him, snaking your arms around his waist. “I think you look so handsome with a little weight on you,” you whisper in his ear. “Does something to me.” You nibble on his ear before trailing kisses along his jaw, and that’s when Toji realizes why you’ve been so affectionate with him, like a lightbulb going off in his head.

Just mere minutes later, you’re riding him like your life depends on it, slamming your hips down on his, creating a sticky mess between you two. “S-shit,” he pants, “slow down, mama—fuck!” His bruising grips on your hips only tighten the faster you ride him. Your pussy sucks him in with each thrust, clenching around his throbbing cock. “I can’t…you get so me so hot and bothered, baby.” You grin, running your hands down his chest.

He swears he could cum right then and there, with the way you were riding him and that look in your eye, he was ready to give you another kid. And now you were kissing his neck, moaning and whimpering in his ear. “You’re so perfect, Toji,” you mewl. “Fuck me.” His eyes roll back before fluttering shut. “Keep going, yes, yes, just like that, mama. You’re gonna make me fucking cum,” he groans. You keep that same rhythm, squeezing your pussy around him, milking him. He suddenly wraps his arms around you, holding you in place as he thrusts up into you, the sound of skin on skin filling the room. “Ah, fuck!” You cry out, your cum dripping down his shaft. His thrusts grow sloppier and harder and next thing you know he’s filling you up, pushing his cum deeper inside of you with slow thrusts. Laughter erupts from your chest as you catch your breath, kissing him slowly and passionately.

“Mmm, goddamn,” he huffs, pulling you to his chest. “Now I finally know why you’re so goddamn horny all the time,” he chuckles. You blink up at him with a small smirk. “Can you blame me?” You trace patterns on his skin. He can see the look in your eye, that hungry stare you’re giving him, wanting more. “What are you thinking about, hm?” He caresses your cheek. “Oh nothing…just how badly I wanna give you some head right now, but I’ll wait.”

[weaselle]

it was too much i had to make my own post

line cook here. ACCURATE

if you don't get the hate, here's what you don't understand.

it takes up to 2 hours to close down the kitchen.

The last 60-90 minutes before closing time you do almost no cooking because the restaurant doesn't have many people in it and you've already cooked most of their diners.

So if someone walks in during, like, the last hour, the cook is in the middle of an industrial deep clean of the kitchen.

(these numbers can vary quite a bit from place to place but i have worked several restaurants with these actual times and the concept remains the same)

Say the place closes at 10. If you wait til the restaurant is already closed to start all your cleaning duties, you'll be there until at least midnight.

More than that your boss knows that on an average night you can start your clean up as soon as the last rush ends and get out of there around 10:45, even 10:15 on a slow night if you get lucky. That means there are plenty of restaurants where if you do take until midnight the manager is going to come up to you at some point that week and ask you what went wrong that night, and you'd better have an answer.

So this example restaurant closes at 10 pm. The dinner rush ends around 8:30, and shortly after that the cook is going to start getting every single dish possible over to the dishwasher because the dishwasher always gets hit hard and late, and the machine runs for 2 full minutes and only holds so many dishes, so the way that works out is if you wait an extra 30 minutes to give the dishwasher all your stuff it can mean adding like 60 minutes to the end of his shift. And you're gonna KEEP finding shit to send to the dishpit right up until you leave probably.

all these little square and rectangle containers in this cold table have to be pulled out and changed over into new containers, replaced by new full ones, or in some cases filled from larger containers in the back, which can result in even more empty containers to send to the dishwasher.

while it's all pulled apart to do this, you have to clean up all the spilled food and sauce and juices and stuff from the joints and ledges and shelves and drip trays

Once you get your line changed over in this way, and fully stocked, anytime someone orders something that makes use of a bunch of that stuff, you have to restock and re-clean it some. It might already be covered in plastic. Some of it might already be stuck in the back to make room to take apart your cutting board counter to clean. To cook a dish isn't TOO much of a problem at this point, but you're really hoping for zero orders because you still have so much other cleaning to do.

Meanwhile the salad bar and appetizer section and server station and everybody are all doing the same thing. Even the bartenders are stocking olives and lemons and sending back whisks and stir spoons and shakers and empty 4quart storage containers that used to hold the back-up lemons and olives and things. Every section is dumping their must-be-cleaneds to the dishpit as fast as possible because early and fast is the only thing they can do to to help that dishpit not absolutely drown into overtime.

The poor dishwasher is always the last to clock out, soaking wet and exhausted.

Around this time you probably scrub the flat top, which has turned black from cooked on grease and is still about 500 degrees. Line cooks are divided in opinion on water-based or oil based cleaning methods for this, but they all involve scrubbing with (usually) a brick of pumice stone using every ounce of your strength while you try not to burn yourself

you scrub it from fully blackened to gleaming silver and now if somebody orders something that needs the flat top to cook, you can either fuck up your cleaning job or fake it in a couple frying pans and pass that tiny fuck you down to your dishwasher (who usually understands, especially if you help them take the garbage out or clean your own floor drain later)

If there's deep fried stuff on the menu then the fryers have to be cleaned out, which includes straining the oil out into enormous and super-heavy pots full of oil so hot that if you spill on yourself then it's probably a hospital visit and if you slip and fall face first into it it'll be the last thing you ever do.

Then you gotta scrub out the fryer. Like you gotta take the (hot) screen out and reach your arm down into the weird rounded pipes and curved areas (so hot, burn you if you brush against them hot) and scrub off whatever is down there

Depending on your kitchen you might have to do up to four of these. Then you'll have to pour the (dangerously hot) oil back in

oh, and if you didn't dry the pipes and get ALL the water out of the trap and tank?

water reacts with hot oil in a sort of mentos and coke way that can send a tidal wave of oil past the open flame of the pilot light ...HUGE dangerous mess and/or burn down the kitchen if the oil lights up.

Unless! If the oil has been used too hard and needs to be changed, it's time to carry those open topped super heavy pots full of will-kill-you-hot oil and dump them in the barrel outside by the dumpsters so you can put room temp fresh oil in the fryers. whew!

The clean up is not just some light wiping down that can be easily interrupted, is what i'm saying.

You might have to do some kind of walk-in duty (moving around 50lb cases of lettuce and 50lb bags of onions to get to the stacks of five gallon buckets full of salad dressings and sauces to move so you can reach the giant metal pots and bus tubs full of prep and get it all organized and make sure it's all labeled and i have to stop now i'm having flashbacks)

THE POINT IS

by 15 or however many minutes to close, the line cook is doing an intense deep clean and probably has the whole stove taken apart to detail.

For some industrial stoves this means lifting off large cast iron plates that weigh like 20 lbs each and are still quite hot. Whatever metal burners are on there, you gotta take off and clean, you can see here the lines that indicate the large thick cast iron rectangles that sit on top of the burners to allow heavy pots to rest on. Those five (each has one front burner hole and one back burner hole, see?) have to be lifted off and cleaned with soap and a wire brush usually, and then the underneath area also has to be cleaned because a lot of shit falls through the burner holes on a busy night.

if you didn't do it when you did the flat top you have to do the grease trap (which can be like a full five minutes and is always disgusting).. You gotta clean out all the little gas jets in each burner with a wire or something so the burners all flame evenly, and sometimes you have to remove some of the natural gas piping that connects the burners to access where you have to clean.

you gotta clean out the bottom of the oven and the wire racks, and, oh gods, you gotta take down the filter vents from the hood fans above the stove.

See all the lined parts along the top of the wall?

those are hood vents, and as they pull air up they also pull a lot of grease and they have to be taken down and cleaned, then you gotta climb up there and scrub where they go before you put them back...

And then there's the mopping and floor drains and...

Anyway, that's what the line cook is doing when you walk in fifteen minutes before closing and order something that needs to be cooked on that stove. They are doing an entire industrial cleaning of a professional kitchen.

In some restaurants maybe one or two of these jobs will be every other night or even only twice a week, but in many, possibly most kitchens, ALL of these things happen EVERY night. You don't want to leave any food mess that might attract insects or rodents for one thing, so a really good kitchen is as close to brand new as you can get it every night.

IF YOU ABSOLUTELY HAVE TO ORDER SOMETHING ANYWAY, HERE IS WHAT TO DO

open with an apology and ask the server to go ask what the cook would prefer you to order.

Any good server will already know what the cook is hoping for and what will make their line cook go into the walk in and scream. If it's significantly less than an hour to close and they say some variant of "oh anything is fine" they are either telling the lie their boss wants them to say, or they actually do not know what their line cook wants, and you can either use human connection and a conspiratorial just-between-us tone to get them to drop the customer-is-always-right act, or get them to actually go ask the cook.

It might be as specific as "the lasagna is easiest on the kitchen" or it might be a simple guideline like "nothing that requires the flat top" or "any of the sautés are easy" but a good line cook will probably have a system for if they have to make a couple of the most popular items after they start their close, so the answer is likely to include something most people like and you should be good to order that.

but for the love of all that's holy, please only do so at great need. Leave that last 30-60 minutes to the truly desperate and the crew's duties.

[autistic-shaiapouf]

Am I placebo effecting myself or is the caffeine actually working

[aria0fgold]

Being awake early for once is soooo fun, ohhhhh this is what being an early bird is like, I get it now, it's fun! (<- got stuck like a vampire for nearly a month or so).