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#it's not going well

My life goal right now is to trick a sad, rich person into loving me so I can stay home all day writing fanfics and kissing scenes

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The fact that I am expected to be remotely productive at work today…

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I can’t even for the life of me write anymore. All this just sounds and feels WRONG and Greg can’t have gone for a long, angry walk because Mycroft left their room, not Greg and Greg cleaned up the fucking room once Mycroft had gone!

Where in the world am I with my head? Why can’t I write? 

11. Dashing through the snow + “I need to reset my brain.”

Dashing through the snow. In a one horse open sleigh. O'er the fields we go. Laughing all the way.

‘Urg.’ Greg groined, pulling his earbuds out and putting away his Ipod. Ever since the fight with Mycroft he hadn’t been feeling like himself and even Christmas music couldn’t cheer him up. Everything Christmas reminded him of his cranky roommate and his nasty words. 

“This is just appalling, you are 24 years old, Lestrade and yet you act like you are 14!”

Greg closed his eyes as Mycroft’s voice ringed in his head. He had no idea why Mycroft had lashed out like that. Granted, the tree he’d put up had been on the large side, and maybe spilling that bottle of glitter hadn’t been the best idea but still. 

‘I’m not a child.’ Greg muttered to himself as he walked into his building. He’d taken a very long, very angry walk, going over their discussion, twisting knives into his heart by replaying Mycroft’s words. 

“Are they even any ornaments left in the whole of Britain or did you just decide to hang them all up in our room?”

“Why are you always so careless of other people’s things, Lestrade!” 

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Current mood: trying to learn a Spanish song to sing for a friend who doesn’t know I’m doing it but who will hopefully like it.

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i pay tuition to cry

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Currently trying to type the last few chapter of the original story i’ve been working on for the past 10 months and come up with a decent resolution that makes sense

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Got to love those first drafts with no dialogue tags.

“You have to understand, I was born to be an imperial agent. My whole life, from my first screaming breath, was in service to the glorious empire." 

"I bet you were an awful child." 

Darmas laughs. "Quite the contrary, my dear. I was a model student. Perfect scores, across the board." 

"What I’m hearing is that you never got caught cheating. Those skills set you up good for a life at the card tables." 

"How dare you cast such aspersions. If there’s one thing I’m honest with, it’s cards." 

"Not me though." 

Darmas leans in. Hands close to hers, but he doesn’t touch her. "I don’t regret the time we spent together. Not at all.”

“What do you regret, then?”

The scene ends there because I DON”T KNOW WHAT HE REGRETS AND I WOULD LOVE IT IF HE TOLD ME.

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trying to train ourselves away from just calling everything poggers as our default compliment

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we started school - only 20% of the student body in the building at a time for the first five days this past week.

and YET, a student has already tested positive after a party off-campus. she didn’t come to school, but her friends who were also there and who hadn’t been tested yet did.

also, the district’s elearning platform is not gonna work because they only have half the teachers they need. So, in addition to teaching two lessons per day for hybrid learning, I might have to take on additional elearning students who will require a completely different set of lesson plans.

i’m so fucked. we’re all so fucked.

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ok just not going to draw today i guess

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watching my brother fail at The Whisper quest is giving me brain damage

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*me trying to write the smuts after like a good 5 months of no writing of the smuts* WHERE THE FUCK ARE THEIR HANDS? CAN THE HUMAN BODY EVEN MOVE LIKE THIS? AHHHHHHHH WHAT ARE LESS CRINGE WORDS FOR LADY PARTS BESIDES FLOWER REFERENCES? WHY CAN I NOT SMUT?!? I SMUT IN MY HEAD ALL THE TIME….

*lays face first on desk* Is this fanfiction bed death? OH SMUT GODS…. HELP… 

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I’ve been locked in my room for days struggling to write what might be the single most important paper in my life.

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lmao does anyone else have that issue where you start drawing a human body and then afterwards you’re like, “i did such a good job on the body that i don’t want to draw the clothes now” and then you’re googling fashionable skin-tight clothes that will let you keep the anatomy outlines

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